Saviours of the North Sea
by PsandQs
Summary: Written before season 10 aired. Harry survives the Inquiry, and his first task back is to provide security for an environmental conference. Matters take an unexpected turn, and becomes personal for both Harry and Ruth.
1. Chapter 1

_15 January  
Siberia, unknown remote location_

Four men are seated around a rudimentary wooden table. One man, clad in rough workman clothing, is smoking a foul smelling Russian cigarette. He squints at the others through the blue smoke, then casually flicks the ash from it, not caring where it falls. Some of it drifts onto the sleeve of the man sitting directly opposite. The man swipes it off his expensive looking coat with an irritated gesture before addressing the two men across from him in broken Russian.  
"Do we have a deal?"  
The smoking man regards him impassively for a few moments longer, before smiling suddenly. When he answers, his well-educated voice belies his blue collar appearance.  
"We have a deal."

- 0 -

_20 January  
BBC news broadcast_

"In yet another indication of the improved relations between the UK and Russia, the Defence Secretary today attended the decommissioning ceremony of obsolete Russian naval craft. These Cold War era ships and submarines are to be dismantled and taken apart over the next few months. The Defence Secretary hailed the occasion as a testament of Russia's commitment to new alliances and a desire never to return to the misunderstandings of the past between the two countries."

- 0 -

_21 February  
Thames House_

When Harry enters the doors of Thames House for the first time in two months, he is uncharacteristically nervous. He can't help but wonder what sort of reception he will get on the Grid. During his suspension he was not allowed to have any contact with his team, and for once in his life he adhered to this order. He felt he owed them that much. Everyone needed time to sort through their feelings about what happened, and to decide where their futures lie. He himself had to decide whether he really wants to stay on in the job, while the members of his team had to decide whether they still want to work with him. Whether they still trust him to lead them. Pausing for a moment outside the Grid, he takes a deep breath, schools his expression carefully and enters.

They're clearly expecting him. They were informed of the outcome of the Inquiry two days ago – that there were sufficient extenuating circumstances not to take further action against Harry – and were also informed that he will return to his post today. An awkward silence descends as Harry pauses just inside the doors. He looks at what remains of his team; Ruth, Dimitri, Beth and Tariq, and is overcome with regret over what they've been through. When none of them move or speak, he takes the initiative.  
"Well. It's good to see you all. Shall we take this to the meeting room? There are a few things we need to discuss."

They settle around the table. Harry looks at each of them – trying, and not quite succeeding, not to linger on Ruth. They all watch him expectantly as he searches for the right words.  
"I know that the last few months have been appalling. None of us sign up here to hunt one of our own. But unfortunately, we are not always in control of what we are asked to do in the defence of the realm."  
Four pairs of eyes regard him steadily.  
"And in this case, you also had to cope with me trying to spread my bets in an effort to save both the lives and the state secrets at stake."  
He's about to come to the crux of his little speech and everyone around the table can sense it. There is an almost tangible increase in the tension in the air.  
"I want you all to know that I have the greatest respect for the way you conducted yourselves throughout the whole ordeal. And…" He meets each person's eyes resolutely.  
"I also realise that you may not feel the same about my conduct. That is understandable, and I will not hold it against you. If any of you feel that you can no longer accept my authority, I will do everything in my power to secure you another position of your choice in the Security Services. Speak now if that is what you want."

It is possible to hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence. Nobody looks at each other; instead five intent stares are directed at the table top. Ruth, sitting to Harry's right, glances at his hands and notices that they are clasped so tightly together that his flesh has turned white in places. She feels a surge of sympathy so strong that it shocks her. After long seconds of heavy silence Dimitri is the first to lift his head and glance around the table. He clears his throat and everyone's attention focus on him. He senses consternation from Beth and Tariq, and something akin to hostility from Ruth.  
"Harry," he pauses dramatically, drawing out the tension.  
"…Nice tie."

After a moment of stunned silence, Beth starts to laugh and Tariq soon joins in. Even Ruth has a small smile on her face. Harry looks a little bewildered, wondering what the hell just happened. Beth finally turns to him.  
"It's good to have you back, Harry. Really good." She looks at the others who nod in agreement.  
"We just want to put it all behind us, and get on with the job. Is that all right with you?"  
Harry is momentarily overcome. He smiles in an effort to hide it, and nods.  
"That's all right with me."  
Ruth steps in to save him from having to say anything else.  
"Right, these are the things on our radar at the moment. Two possible terror threats. And we think not all the decommissioned Russian naval vessels reached their intended destination."  
All through her briefing, she has a sparkle in her eyes.

When Harry dismisses them some time later, Ruth remains in her seat. Harry does the same. For the first time since he's stepped back onto the Grid they look at each other – _really_ look at each other. Ruth is happy to see that the time away seems to have done Harry good; he looks more relaxed than she can remember seeing him since her return from Cyprus, and his hair is once again cut much shorter. She is glad of the changes.  
"It really is good to have you back, Harry."  
"It's good to be back," he replies sincerely, as his gaze continues to roam her face. She still has the same shadows behind her eyes he remembers from before his suspension. This saddens him and he can't help but wonder whether his return may actually be to her detriment. He decides now is as good a time as any to have The Conversation.  
"I've been thinking, Ruth. I would very much like it if we can start over."  
When she raises her eyebrows, he hurries to explain.  
"I don't mean we should just ignore all that happened. I know it's not that simple. What I mean is… I realise I didn't handle things well after Ros' funeral. Between us – after you said what you said. So what I want is for us to draw a line underneath it all; to start over as colleagues first and foremost, and take things from there."  
He looks at her helplessly, aware that he is not expressing himself well at all.  
"Do you understand?"

Ruth ponders for a moment.  
"You want us to rebuild the basis of professional trust between us first, and then perhaps we can once again be friends someday. Is that what you mean?"  
"Yes." He sounds relieved, then adds an afterthought. "Or something more."  
She frowns in confusion. "Something more?"  
He nods. "Something more than friends – something _else._ If you want it, some day." The implication is clear. He will always love her, but it is up to her to take them further; he won't push the issue.  
Before she can respond, he gets up.  
"I have to start the search for a new Section Chief. I wanted Alec to take on that role but the DG refused to sign, so…"  
"Okay. I'll get back to work then."  
She feels an inexplicable sense of loss as she walks back to her desk.

And with that, life on the Grid settles back into its usual routine.

- 0 -

_Next day  
Encrypted message intercepted by GCHQ  
Origin: unknown  
Destination: unknown_

**goods obtained stop refurbishment in progress stop estimated completion two weeks stop**

Since no link is found to any existing operations, the intercept is graded low priority and filed without further action. However, the Section Head, in a rare moment of farsightedness, orders that the frequency on which the message was intercepted should be monitored continuously for a month.

- 0 -

_One week later  
Home Secretary's Office_

"Ah, Harry." Towers beckons him to a chair as soon as he enters the office.  
"Something new has come up that needs your attention." The Home Secretary shifts some folders around on his desk before identifying the one he wants.  
"There will be an environmental conference held on the Shetland Islands in two weeks' time. It will be attended by government representatives, environmental groups and Big Business. I'll be chairing. The coalition has somewhat stalled on environmental matters, so the conference is an attempt to ensure all role-players that we are still deeply committed to giving it the attention it needs." He looks up at Harry.  
"I want your team at the venue to coordinate security."

Harry stares at him in horror.  
"You want me and my team to spend a week cheek-to-jowl with a bunch of pot-smoking hippies, some rich fat-cats, and you? In the remotest corner of the UK?"  
Towers ignores the note of incredulity in Harry's voice.  
"It won't be all bad – I'm told the hotel has a wonderful spa." He beams at the thought. Harry barely stops himself from rolling his eyes.  
"This will be a monumental waste of our time. Unless there is a specific security threat against the conference there is no need for Section D to be there. Special Branch is more than capable of providing your security needs for this operation. Now if there is nothing else-"  
"You're bloody going!" Towers interrupts brusquely.  
"I expended a lot of political currency to keep you in your job; see it as a way to show your gratitude." He smiles smugly at the man across the desk.  
_So this is the cost – this is how it's going to be from now on_, Harry thinks disconsolately. Noting his annoyance, Towers pipes up again, "Think of it as a chance for some team-building. I'm sure you need it after the Lucas North affair."  
This time Harry doesn't bother to hide his eye rolling.  
"Home Secretary," he grumbles as he gets up, buttons his jacket and strides out.

Back at the office he calls everyone into the meeting room. His irritation shines through as he briefs them on the latest development.  
"Unfortunately we are short-staffed still, so it'll be all hands to the pumps I'm afraid. I'm going to designate one officer each to the politicians, tree-huggers and money-grubbers."  
Beth and Dimitri talk over each other in their haste to beg not to be given the task of watching the environmentalists.  
Beth says, "I hate nature, please don't make me spend my time with-", while Dimitri says, "I once had a run-in with Greenpeace when I was still at SBS, please don't give me-"

Harry holds up a hand.  
"Since we'll be marooned on a remote island I'll need Dimitri to coordinate boat patrols. He won't have time for anything else, so that leaves Beth, Ruth, and myself." He shifts some papers in front of him.  
"So Ruth will take the hippies."  
"What? Why?" Ruth asks, sounding affronted. Harry looks at her.  
"You have a cat. Beth, I need you-"  
"I have a _cat_?"  
All around the table he is met by bemused expressions.  
"Well, it's an indication that you're positively disposed to God's little creatures," Harry explains patiently, rather pleased with his deductive reasoning.  
Bemusement turns to incredulity.  
"That is the most absurd-" Ruth splutters.  
Harry interrupts sharply.  
"This is not a bloody democracy! Ruth will take the environmentalists, Beth the business people, Tariq will man the control centre, Dimitri will coordinate boat patrols and I'll take the politicians. And that's an end to it!" He gets up and storms off to his office.

Ruth gives him a few minutes to cool down before she knocks on the door. Harry looks up at her, a small frown forming between his eyes before silently motioning her to a chair.  
"About earlier," she begins.  
Harry sighs. "I'm sorry I yelled. But I can't have people questioning my orders, Ruth. All of you either accept my authority, or find other jobs." He looks at her. "And I need the most senior officer I have left to set the example, or there is no hope." It is a rebuke, but a gentle one.

Ruth looks down at her hands. "You're right. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," she assures him earnestly. He nods his thanks.  
When she reaches the door he asks something else that has been bothering him about her response to his order.  
"You don't like other animals then?" He seems almost more disturbed about this than about the dissent. Deep down he wonders whether he will have to revise his vision of the future in which they are one big happy family; the two of them, Scarlet and the cat.  
Turning to him, Ruth is puzzled by the look of disappointment on Harry's face. It makes her pause. She can't help but wonder why it's so important to him.  
"No, I do like other animals."  
"Good. That's good." He seems really happy about that, and Ruth returns to her desk, baffled by the weird exchange.

- 0 -

_Two days later  
The Grid_

They are gathered in the briefing room, going through the list of attendees to the environmental conference. Ruth has just finished with the environmentalists and now Beth takes up the briefing.  
"The Business delegation will be led by this man: Jean-Paul McCintosh. Oil tycoon, philanthropist and apparent all-round latter day saint." His photo appears on the screen as Tariq scurries in late.  
Ruth stares at it in horror. "Oh God. I can't go."  
All heads turn to her, and Harry frowns. "If this is still about the cat comment-"  
"No, of course not," Ruth hastens to explain. "I know this man. From university. I mean, er, he knows that I am Ruth Evershed, so I can't go to the conference with a cover identity."  
"Maybe he won't remember you. You went to university many years ago." Tariq trails off when Beth frowns at him disapprovingly.  
"Er, not that you're old, or anything," he mumbles before lapsing into silence.  
The analyst shakes her head. "Oh, he'll remember me."

Beth and Dimitri regard her with renewed interest. She knows what they're thinking. Harry, on the other hand, looks a tad apprehensive and she wonders what he may be thinking.  
Dimitri leans back in his chair and smirks at Ruth. "Come on, Evershed, we'll need some details."  
But Harry decides that he would rather not know the details and intervenes. "This does create a problem."  
Eager to atone for his earlier comment Tariq offers a possible solution. "Ruth can always go as herself. We just had a late request for inclusion in the environmental delegation – that's why I was late. It seems there's a documentary being made about one of the issues the conference will discuss, and the maker has requested to attend. We can ask them to include Ruth as a research assistant." He looks around the table and is relieved to see that this contribution is met more favourably than his previous one.

Harry nods approvingly. "Do we have details of the documentary maker?"  
"Yep." As soon as Tariq calls up the information on the screen Ruth's head whips around to Harry. He in turn looks at the photo glumly.  
"Oh shag," he says, rather more matter-of-factly than the situation deserves, in Ruth's opinion.  
The other team members look uncomprehendingly between them.  
"What?" Beth asks finally.  
Harry doesn't take his eyes off the screen, where the face and details of the documentary maker, Catherine Townsend, shows larger than life. With a long-suffering air he offers, "Catherine is my daughter."

_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

_02 March  
Harry's Office_

Harry and Ruth sit facing each other across Harry's desk. Ruth is trying to calculate the possible emotional impact on Harry of once again having his daughter embroiled in an operation. Harry is trying desperately to rid his mind of images of Ruth and McCintosh together. In that moment he decides that he really does hate the Home Secretary for forcing this operation onto them. Ruth's voice drags him out of his gloomy thoughts.  
"You didn't know that Catherine was working on the environmental documentary?" She tries her best not to make it sound like a criticism of his parenting skills.  
Harry looks at her. "When we last talked about her latest project, I may have missed some salient details due to delirium over the fact that she wasn't about to blunder into another godforsaken war zone." He sighs. "I heard 'England' and 'environmental issue' and was so relieved that I didn't really pay attention to the rest."  
Ruth smiles gently at him. "You worry about her."  
He gives the merest hint of a smile and looks away. "In any case, it has something to do with oil rigs in the North Sea threatening some sea slugs or something."  
Amused, Ruth raises her eyebrows. "_Sea slugs_?"  
"Maybe it's whales or polar bears, I don't know," he shrugs, then decides to change the topic.

"We are going to have to go with Tariq's idea. I'll get Catherine to take you on as her research assistant and you'll go to the conference under your own name."  
He drags McCintosh's file to him and flicks through it. He has an inherent dislike of business tycoons and can't help but let it show immediately.  
"Oil tycoon philanthropist. Now there's a contradiction in terms if ever I've heard one. And what's with the pretentious name; _Jean-Paul_. The man's ancestry is as British as they come, for God's sake."  
Ruth stays silent, watching him fondly while he complains. She has always loved – and truth be told, shared – Harry's disdain for the majority of politicians and big business types. It gladdens her that he seems to have gotten some of his old fire back. She doesn't allow herself to entertain the thought that there could be a more personal reason behind Harry's reaction towards McCintosh. And now he addresses a question at her.  
"I think it will be best if you try to avoid McCintosh as much as possible, Ruth. Are you all right with that?"  
"Perfectly. If I don't see him all week that'll be just fine with me."  
The answer surprises him somewhat and he yet again wonders exactly what the history between Ruth and this man is. But still he can't bring himself to ask. Instead he contents himself with knowing that she doesn't seem all that eager on a reunion.

When he leaves his office a few minutes later, he goes unnoticed by Tariq and Dimitri, who continue discussing Catherine, unaware that their boss can overhear.  
"I think she's hot," Tariq says, and a moment later a heavy hand lands on his shoulder.  
"Geez!" He starts badly, and pales when he looks up to see Harry scowling at him.  
"You think my daughter is 'hot'?"  
"What Tariq means to say, Harry, is that your wife must have been quite a looker to produce such a beautiful daughter," Dimitri adds helpfully.  
Harry scowls some more at the implied insult about his own appearance, before returning to the issue at hand.  
"Let me be absolutely clear about this," he states menacingly, "if either of you as much as look at my daughter during this operation, I will post you to the worst possible place I can think of. Understood?"  
Both nod contritely. Harry doesn't move, and continues to glare at them. Tariq finally realises that Catherine's photo is still open on his screen and hastily closes it. When Harry turns away he notices Ruth trying to hide her smirk by ducking behind her screen. He waits until he is safely around the corner before he smiles too.

- 0 -

_Same day, midnight  
Laptev Sea, north of Siberia_

The man stands on the foredeck of the old ship, the diesel engine making the deck plates vibrate beneath his feet. It is pitch dark, and there is no other light in sight anywhere around him. He rides the ship's movement across the ocean swells with the ease of a man who has spent a life-time at sea. It is bitterly cold, but he hardly notices. Instead he is concentrating on the feel of the wind against his face. He can tell purely from this that the ship has about reached the desired speed. Right on cue the door to the bridge behind him opens, and the Captain leans out.  
"Twelve knots, Andrei."  
The man on the deck nods, takes a last drag from his foul smelling cigarette before flicking the butt over the rail. He follows the Captain inside.

- 0 -

_03 March  
Thames House_

Catherine announces herself to the security at the front desk. As she waits for Harry to come and fetch her, she reflects on her relationship with her father. Estranged for so long, she is grateful for the effort Harry has made to improve their relationship in recent years. She loves having him back in her life, although she will never admit it to her mother. As she became more mature, she eventually realised that his emotional reticence was not due to indifference towards her, but that it was a protection mechanism. Although she will never know for sure, she suspects it is something to do with his work. But she does know, now, after her near-death experience in Beirut five years ago and the extraordinary lengths he had gone to to save her, that her father loves her very much. That he is capable of deep emotion, but that he is hopeless at expressing those feelings.

Harry exits the elevator and strides across the lobby towards her. Catherine notes with interest how the security officers unconsciously straighten up at the sight of him. One of them greets him cheerfully.  
"Morning Sir. Nice day for it."  
Harry nods, then mutters gloomily, "Is it?"  
However, upon spotting his only daughter he brightens immediately. They embrace, and Harry's heart lifts at the knowledge that hugging each other is no longer an activity that requires careful thought or induces awkwardness.

As he escorts her to one of the public interview rooms he is amused to see her looking about her with undisguised curiosity. It's a strange thought to know that this is as much as anyone in his family has ever seen of his work environment. When he shows her into the room, she looks up to see another woman rise from the table. Harry introduces them briefly.  
"This is Ruth Evershed, who works with me. Ruth, this is my daughter, Catherine."  
The two women regard each other in frank appraisal, and for the first time Harry begins to wonder whether this may actually be a terrible idea.

They settle around the table and Harry starts off the conversation by addressing his daughter.  
"This is about the Shetland environmental conference. You're going to attend, aren't you?"  
"How did you-" She stops herself, remembering where she is and what her father does for a living, and merely nods. Harry continues.  
"I need a favour. I want you to include Ruth in your team as your Research assistant."  
Catherine is not pleased by the request. Her first instinct is to immediately refuse, but curiosity wins out.  
"Why is MI5 interested in the conference?"  
"We'll be providing security."  
Catherine frowns, a mannerism so familiar to Ruth that she can't help a slight intake of breath.  
"But don't you usually deal with terrorists?"  
Harry glances at Ruth before answering. "Yes. I'm doing a favour for the Home Secretary."  
Shaking her head, Catherine laughs.  
Harry tilts his head at her. "What?"  
"Nothing. It's just weird to think of my father hobnobbing with the Home Secretary."  
Harry smiles uncertainly, not sure whether she meant it in a good or bad way.

Ruth gently intervenes.  
"Catherine, what exactly is your documentary about?"  
"It investigates possible causes for the collapse of the sand eel population in the North Sea."  
She is aware that Ruth is studiously avoiding eye contact with her father, and that both seem to be suppressing some amusement. Ruth can practically hear Harry in her head saying that he wasn't that far off with his sea slug comment. Looking between the two of them with a bemused expression, she continues.  
"As you may or may not know, the sand eel collapse is in turn threatening many of the bird species of the North Sea, including the Atlantic Puffin, Arctic Tern and Northern Fulmar populations. It is thought to be caused by a rise in ocean temperature, which in turn causes a change in the mix of plankton – the main food of the sand eels. I am investigating whether the oil rigs in the North Sea may have had a more direct causal effect than believed to be the case thus far."

Ruth is scribbling notes, and Harry watches her for a moment before turning to Catherine.  
"We don't want to interfere with your documentary in any way. You are to continue as per normal, only with an additional staff member."  
Ruth takes over seamlessly.  
"You won't have to pay me, but I will actually be doing the research work for you as required."  
Harry nods. "Everything needs to be as authentic as possible. Besides, Ruth is the best analyst I've ever known, so this may actually be to your advantage."  
Although Ruth tries to hide it, Catherine can tell that she is pleased by the compliment. Having spent a whole childhood defined by mostly unsuccessful attempts to win her father's approval, Catherine herself is rather surprised to hear him compliment someone else with such ease and warmth. Adding this to the effortless tag-team performance she's just been witness to, she is becoming increasingly intrigued by the nature of the relationship between her father and this woman. Her silence prompts Harry to speak further.  
"I'm also going to be at the conference. Unfortunately we'll have to pretend not to know each other. Can you do that?"  
This piece of information decides her. She's not going to pass up an opportunity to observe her father in action, and to possibly gain a deeper understanding of his mysterious job that has cost their family so much.

- 0 -

_Same day, evening  
Siberia, undisclosed remote location_

Andrei sits down at the table with the satellite phone in front of him. He thinks for a moment, then calls the number in London. It is picked up almost immediately. He speaks in Russian.  
"The test was run successfully last night. She's old, but we've fixed everything that needed to be fixed, and replaced some of the navigational equipment with more modern electronics. The launch went smoothly, the capsule was able to complete the round trip and was retrieved again without any problems. We are ready."  
The voice at the other end is calm.  
"Good. The coordinates of the target are being sent to you now. You have a two day window in which to complete the task; 7-9 March. Only contact me in an emergency before then."  
The line goes dead. A few seconds later the coordinates come through on the encrypted communication channel. Andrei goes over to a map and traces them in. He stares at his destination: a dot in the North Sea, near the coast of the Shetland Islands.

- 0 -

_04 March  
The Grid_

Harry is late getting back from the JIC meeting, but as soon as he steps through the doors he waves them all into the meeting room for their morning briefing.  
"Right, update on the conference preparations please," he asks as soon as everyone's settled.  
Tariq goes first. "I've finished preparing everyone's legends. Well, Beth's really, since Harry and Ruth will be going as themselves. Ruth's back-story has been fully prepared, though." He hands the information around.  
Harry peruses the document. "Promising academic career given up to pursue the worthy cause of environmental activism. Good. That should do. Ruth, how are you getting on at becoming an expert on the dwindling numbers of the North Sea sand eel?"  
"Well. I've obtained some research papers from a leading expert on bird species in that area."  
This gets Harry's attention. He raises an eyebrow before asking carefully, "And does the leading expert know that you have obtained his papers?"  
Ruth avoids eye contact. "They haven't been published yet."  
"I see." He decides it's best to move on. "Beth?"

"I've come across some interesting information. Apparently three new oil concessions in the North Sea are going to be up for grabs soon. Environmental groups have long been lobbying for no further concessions to be given, but it seems the coalition government is planning to go ahead with this. If the environmentalists find out, there could be trouble at the conference."  
She glances at Ruth before continuing. "Jean-Paul McCintosh's company is one of the front-runners to get the concessions, along with BP."  
"Terrific. Beth, you better stick to McCintosh pretty closely. He is not to make any move without us knowing about it." Aware of Ruth's eyes on him, Harry feels the need to provide an explanation for this order.  
"We wouldn't want anything to happen to Mr McCintosh on our watch."  
He looks around the table. "Any other possible security threats to the conference?"  
The others shake their heads.  
"Right then." As everyone starts to gather their papers, he remembers something else.  
"Oh, what is the latest on the suspected missing Russian naval craft?"  
"Naval Intelligence said they'd send us the details. We're still waiting for it," Dimitri replies.  
Harry frowns. "That was over a week ago. Are they sending it by carrier pigeon?"  
The others stifle their grins as Harry gets up.  
"Get onto them again, Dimitri, and perhaps enlighten them about the wonders of modern technology to speed up the process."  
As he reaches the door he calls over his shoulder, "You can all leave early to pack. Be at the airfield tomorrow morning at six. Don't be late."

As Ruth settles herself back at her desk, she ponders the fact that Harry hasn't asked for details of her acquaintance with Jean-Paul McCintosh. Usually he would have no qualms about demanding personal information from his officers if there were any chance of it impacting on an operation. Perhaps it is the fact that they do not at present have a specific security threat against the conference that has prevented him from doing so. _Or perhaps_, a little voice in the back of her head says, _it is because he doesn't want to hear that you had had a torrid affair with this man, even if it happened a long time ago_.

She sighs. He has been the consummate professional towards her since his return from suspension. Gone are the snipes and the barbed comments that sometimes punctuated their interaction after Ros' funeral, and she is glad of that. However, gone also is the intimate emotional connection they once had, and she finds that she is not so happy about that. She can't blame him, really. Thinking back at how harshly she'd told him that it was wrong of him to love her, she cringes a little inwardly. Although she still believes he should not have sacrificed Albany to save her, she has since asked herself what she would have done in his shoes – if it were his life on the line and she was the one in possession of the state secret that could save him; and is finding that the answer is not nearly as straightforward as she would like to believe. And anyway-  
Her thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of the phone. It is the number of their liaison at GCHQ.  
"Ruth, we thought you should know we've intercepted an encrypted communication that could be linked to the conference in the Shetlands."  
"What does it say?"  
"That's the thing – it says nothing much. It only provides a set of coordinates which collates to a point in the North Sea - Near the Shetland coast."  
Ruth gets that familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  
"That's not good."  
The liaison continues.  
"There's more. We were monitoring that frequency because of an earlier intercept that was a little strange. On the 22nd of February we intercepted this message: 'goods obtained stop refurbishment in progress stop estimated completion two weeks stop'."  
Furiously scribbling down the message, Ruth chews her pen thoughtfully.  
"Do you know where it was sent from?"  
"No. Great care has been taken to obscure the origins. We're working on it, but thus far we have only narrowed it down as originating somewhere between the Ural Mountains and the East coast of the US."

When Ruth unceremoniously bursts into his office, Harry need only take one look at her face to know something is wrong. And her next words confirm it.  
"Harry, we have a problem."

_tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

_04 March  
Harry's Office_

"What's your thinking?" Harry's total attention is focussed on Ruth. She has just relayed the information about the coded messages, and he's not quite sure what to make of it. But he has total trust in Ruth's deductive powers and instincts. Even after everything they have been through recently. If anyone can make sense of the information, it is his trusted analyst.

She frowns, and he can practically hear the wheels turning in her head.  
"Well, it's a strange coincidence that these messages are turning up shortly before a large conference on the islands. But to be honest, I have no idea what it could mean. There are too many possibilities at the moment for us to be able to cover all of them."  
"Agreed. Those coordinates indicate a spot in the North Sea, not actually on the coast of the Shetlands. So most likely a rendezvous spot for a ship?"  
"Maybe," Ruth acknowledges. "But for whom? And why? And perhaps more importantly, when?"  
Harry leans back in his chair and puts his hands behind his head. "You say they've narrowed the origin down to somewhere between the Urals and the US east coast? I would hazard a guess that points to either the Russians or the Chinese."  
She looks sceptical. "If it is a government sanctioned action. But what would they want with an environmental talk shop? It's not as if anything sensitive is going to be discussed."  
He concedes the point with a purse of the lips and Ruth continues.  
"What if it is an independent interest group?"  
Harry sits forward. "One of the militant environmental groups, maybe?"  
"That would be the most logical possibility," Ruth agrees.

She waits while he thinks it through. When he looks at her she can tell he's made a decision.  
"Okay, there is not enough evidence yet to get the Navy involved. Dimitri'll have to investigate once we get to the Shetlands – see whether it is possible to launch any kind of weapon at the hotel from that spot, or to intercept data or sound from the conference. In the meantime, get GCHQ to look for any other communications from the same area in the same time-span. Let's see if we can get more information. And tell them to narrow down the origin of these messages."  
Ruth nods and gets up to leave.  
"Thank you, Ruth," Harry says warmly and she turns to smile at him. As she leaves, both feel secretly pleased at how well the brainstorming session went. And at how well they complement each other at work.

- 0 -

_05 March, early morning  
Scotland, Aberdeen airport_

The team walk across the tarmac to the waiting helicopter that will take them the rest of the way to the Shetland Islands. Harry glances at Ruth, who has been uncharacteristically quiet since he told them the last leg will be completed by helicopter. He wonders what's bothering her. She isn't afraid of flying; he knows that since she was fine on the flight up to Aberdeen. However, he sees her look anxiously at the helicopter and realises that perhaps it is helicopters in particular that she doesn't like, rather than flying in general. He can sympathise with that; while he himself isn't exactly afraid of flying, he always hated flying on the Concorde. There is something unnatural about travelling faster than the speed of sound, he firmly believes. Perhaps Ruth feels the same way about helicopters.

"Ruth?"  
She looks up at the sound of his voice.  
"Do you mind sitting next to me on the flight – there are a few things I'd like us to go over."  
Ruth nods, and can't help but wonder whether he's seen how nervous she is. Thankfully no one else appears to have noticed. She dutifully sits next to him, and he talks to her all the way, making her think about work issues. Ruth recognises what he is doing, but even so it works a treat. There is no time for her to think about all the things that can go wrong with the helicopter, and his soothing voice in her ear is an effective balm against the nerves. When they disembark at the hotel she has not even broken a sweat, and smiles at him gratefully. He raises an eyebrow and merely shrugs at her, pretending he still hasn't noticed her fear, and she adores him for it.

The rest of the morning is spent installing their surveillance equipment and setting up the operations centre. Dimitri, meanwhile, has gone off to meet with the Coast Guard members seconded to them for the duration of the conference. Most of the delegates will be arriving through the course of the afternoon, with the opening session scheduled for 16:00, followed by an evening cocktail. Harry knows that they do not have the manpower or the equipment to monitor the whole hotel, and carefully hand-picks a number of delegates' rooms to bug. McCintosh is first on his list, and no-one dares argue with him. He is tempted to also bug Catherine's room, but desists in the end, knowing that 'fatherly concern' won't hold much water as a motivating factor if he were to be questioned about his use of resources at a later date.

When Dimitri returns, they hold a final meeting in the ops centre to ensure that everyone is on the same page. Harry opens by summarising what they know.  
"We have no known, confirmed security threats against the conference. However, we have two very cryptic messages intercepted by GCHQ, which could point to a possible operation against the conference. One of these provided a set of coordinates for a point a little way off the coast of the island. We do not know to whom, what, why or when these coordinates were sent. Best guess at the moment, with the emphasis on the guess part, is that one of the more militant environmental groups have found out about the three oil concessions that will be awarded, and plans to use the conference to make the point that they disapprove of this. Anything else?"

He is greeted by silence.  
"Okay. Dimitri."  
The younger man brings up a map of the island.  
"The Coast Guard provided us with three patrol boats and their crew to assist during the conference. They will be on constant, irregular patrol patterns, concentrating on the eastern coast of the island."  
A click of a button illustrates the location identified by the coordinates in the intercept.  
"I have organised to go with one of the patrol boats to investigate this location first thing tomorrow morning. We will check to see if it is possible to launch some kind of attack on the hotel from there, as well as whether it is possible to intercept sound or other data from that point."

Harry nods. "Good. Tariq, how are we doing on surveillance?"  
"We have audio and visual in the rooms of the two senior delegates of both the business and environmental delegations, as well as in all meeting rooms."  
He glances at Harry nervously. "We have also bugged the rooms of the Energy and Home Secretaries."  
Harry smiles grimly. "Yes. We do not exactly have permission for this, so let's keep that to ourselves, shall we?"  
Tariq continues, "We don't have eyes or ears anywhere else, but we do have some mobile equipment which I'll issue to Beth and Ruth, and which you can use to snoop on someone from a safe distance should we need to target anyone else."  
"All right." Harry glances at his watch. "The delegates will begin arriving shortly, so let's get to it. Thank you, everyone."

Once Ruth finishes dressing for the conference, she moves over to the window and admires the spectacular view. The hotel is situated a few miles north of Lerwick on a narrow bay. Perched high on the cliffs overlooking the North Sea, it is surrounded by miles of uninhabited green fields, and an abundance of birdlife. She peruses the hotel brochure, and notes with interest that a World War II bunker on the edge of the cliffs has been converted into a bird hide from which one can observe a nesting site of Atlantic puffins. She resolves to visit it as soon as she has a few moments to herself. But first it is time to join Catherine and begin the task for which she is here.

She finds the other woman in her room, setting up an impressive array of editing and other video equipment. They chat amicably about the documentary for a while, until Ruth decides to change the subject.  
"Are you really here just to observe the conference?"  
Catherine straightens up and brushes her hair out of her face.  
"What do you mean?"  
"It seems a lot of trouble to go to for what everyone expects to be a mostly meaningless talk shop." She hesitates a moment, but decides to continue what she was about to say.  
"And last time you became involved in one of our operations you were snooping around things that weren't well known. None of your documentaries focus on the obvious angle that everyone with half a brain can figure out for themselves by watching the news. You have a knack for finding the hidden angles. I can't see you being here just to include the meaningless discussions at this conference in your documentary."

After regarding Ruth silently for a few moments, Catherine smiles ruefully and sits down on the bed.  
"Wow. Dad was right."  
"About what?"  
"You are a very good analyst." A thought occurs to her and she looks at Ruth.  
"Or is this what my father thinks?"  
Ruth shakes her head.  
"No, he knows nothing about this."  
"You haven't told him about your suspicions?" Catherine sounds rather surprised.  
Once again Ruth shakes her head.  
"He has enough to worry about at the moment."  
Catherine tilts her head, frowns a little and ponders Ruth's words.  
_So much her father's daughter_, Ruth thinks with a slight clench of the heart.  
Watching her, Catherine wonders whether all Harry's officers are as eager to protect him as his prized analyst seems to be. This thought decides her.

"Fine," she says suddenly. "I'll tell you what you want to know, but I want something in return. Information about my father."  
Ruth looks apprehensive.  
"There's a limit to what I can tell you."  
The younger woman rolls her eyes.  
"Yes, yes, I'm not asking for a bloody state secret. I only want to know what's been going on with him the last few months. He's seemed very down, and about two months ago I got this really weird message from him. He sounded so lost, almost as if he expected never to see me again. It scared the crap out of me."  
She can sense that Ruth is suddenly very interested.  
"When was this message?"  
"Oh…" Catherine thinks back, and then provides the date. "I remember because I was giving a lecture on documentary making at the London School of Arts that day."

Ruth closes her eyes and turns her head away, but not before Catherine sees her sad expression. It is also a date that Ruth will never forget; the day Lucas died. She realises Harry must have called his daughter on his way to meeting Lucas on that rooftop. He would only have done so because he was convinced that he was about to die. For some reason this saddens her immensely. She takes a deep breath and turns to Catherine.  
"We lost a colleague that day. Under terrible circumstances. Harry was… He was forced to make an impossible choice in order to save the life of another colleague. And he was held at gunpoint at one stage."  
Catherine pales at the last bit. "I see."  
Ruth continues as though the younger woman hasn't spoken.  
"Harry was blamed for some things that happened, and there was an investigation into his actions."  
She sees Catherine's eyes darken in anger and hastens to add, "But he was cleared of everything in the end."

Now Ruth decides that that is as much information as she dares to give, and changes the topic.  
"Your turn. Why are you really here?"  
Catherine regards Ruth with a speculative look in her eye.  
"I don't suppose it'll help me any to ask you not to tell my father?"  
"Well, that depends on what you're busy with."  
Her shoulders sag a bit as she sighs resignedly.  
"All right. I'm hoping to gather information on Jean-Paul McCintosh and his oil company."  
Ruth almost laughs. _Of course_, she thinks.  
"Why?"  
"I picked up indications that he or someone in his company tried to bribe the _Saviours of the North Sea_environmental group to sabotage some of BP's oil rigs here. BP is already under immense pressure after the Gulf of Mexico disaster. Another big one and they'll be there for the taking. I suspect McCintosh wants to cripple his main competitor and take over the company."

Ruth's thoughts immediately go to the mysterious message with the coordinates. Could it be the location of one of BP's oil rigs? And if so, does this mean that McCintosh has persuaded the _Saviours of the North Sea_ to do this?  
"Are you sure about this?" She asks Catherine rather urgently.  
Catherine regards her curiously.  
"Very sure. The only thing I don't know is whether _Saviours of the North Sea_ agreed or not. They do have some militant members, but I'm not sure they'd willingly cause an oil spill. It is rather against what they stand for in the first place."  
"True." Ruth looks at her watch. "We better get going, the first session is about to start."

They are just in time to enter the conference room with the last of the delegates. William Towers is readying himself at the podium, then waits for everyone to settle down before he begins.  
"Good afternoon. Some time during 2011, the world's population will pass the seven billion mark. This puts tremendous pressure on the earth's resources, and demands that government, environmental groups and energy companies work ever more closely together to meet the challenges we are facing…"  
As he continues his address, Ruth looks around the room. She sees Beth, or rather 'Eve Lynn', looking every inch the business executive. She also notes that Beth is receiving quite a few interested looks from the males in the room. And then her eyes fall on him. Jean-Paul McCintosh. He is still an attractive man, she notes. His hair has greyed and his figure has filled out a bit, but he still has that confident aura of a man who knows the opposite sex finds him alluring, and who is used to getting what he wants. She smiles a bit, then becomes aware of a pair of eyes on her. Glancing to her right, she sees Harry standing inside the doors of the room, watching her watch Jean-Paul. He holds her look for a few seconds, his eyes dark and unreadable, before turning his head away.

When the opening speeches end, Ruth hurries to intercept Harry and tell him what Catherine told her, but he is deep in conversation with the Home Secretary. She doesn't get a chance to speak to him before they enter the dining room where the cocktail function is being held. Her own attention is then demanded by Catherine, who introduces her to various members of the environmental delegation. As she finishes another conversation, Catherine nudges her.  
"Look at that."  
She nods across the room, where Harry is chatting with an attractive woman which Ruth recognises as the Under Secretary for Energy. Catherine chuckles.  
"She fancies him, and he hasn't a clue. He really is hopeless."

Before Ruth can respond, a loud voice calls out from behind her.  
"Ruth?! My God, it's Ruthie Evershed!"  
She briefly closes her eyes, then plasters a smile on her face and turns around.  
"Hello, Jean-Paul."  
While he tells everyone that will listen that they were at university together, she sees Harry looking at them over McCintosh's shoulder. He has the same look of apprehension on his face that he wore when he first heard that she knew McCintosh. She brings her attention back to the man before her and engages him in brief conversation, before extracting herself at the earliest opportunity and moving on.

An hour later, Harry is sick and tired of making small-talk. He finds himself next to Catherine in a relatively quiet spot. Looking around, he fails to locate Ruth and turns to his daughter.  
"Do you know where Ruth is?"  
Catherine merely lifts an eyebrow and grins at him.  
"What?" He looks at her questioningly.  
"She fancies you, you know."  
And for once in her life, Catherine sees her father totally flustered.  
"Er, she told you this?"  
It is Catherine's turn to be confused.  
"What? No, obviously not. Why would the Under Secretary for Energy confide in me?"  
"The Under… Oh." He trails off, and Catherine swears there is disappointment on his face. Before she can pursue it, he continues.  
"Never mind that. Ruth? I need to talk to her."  
"She said she was going to check out the bunker bird hide."  
"Okay, thanks."  
He can feel his daughter's eyes on his back all the way across the room.

It is a pleasant 200 metre walk to the bird hide, but there is a definite bite in the early evening air and he is glad of his coat and gloves. When he reaches the hide, he unexpectedly hears McCintosh's voice and is suddenly filled with dread about what he may find, but he never considers turning away. He steps through the door quietly. His first impression is of Ruth and McCintosh standing very close together, and his heart sinks. Then he notices Ruth's very closed-off stance, her arms folded tightly across herself, and when she looks at him he sees panic in her eyes, quickly replaced by relief.  
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Harry keeps his voice light, but the threatening undertone is unmistakable. McCintosh swings around, weighs Harry with a quick look, and picks up on a dangerous edge the other man is exuding. He prudently decides against challenging the new arrival. He smiles broadly and steps away from Ruth.  
"Not at all. We were just catching up on old times." He looks at his watch.  
"Well, I must be off. They'll be missing me."

He brushes past Harry, who turns and watches him until he is out the door. When he looks back to Ruth, she is still in the same spot.  
"I think it's time you tell me what the story is between you and him, don't you?"  
As she is about to answer, they hear the heavy bunker door slam shut. Harry swivels and strides to the door, but before he reaches it, he hears the outside bolt slide into place. Leaning his weight into it, he tries to shove it open, but it doesn't budge. He bangs against it, then clearly hears McCintosh laugh as he walks away. After aiming a swift kick at the door in frustration he turns back to Ruth.  
"The bastard locked us in."  
Digging out his mobile, he starts pushing buttons, but nothing happens.  
"Oh bugger," he says, consternation showing on his face. "There's no signal."  
Her eyes widen, and they stand looking at each other, shocked into silence as the realisation sinks in.  
They are trapped.

_tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

_05 March, early evening  
Barents Sea_

Andrei lies on his bunk, smoking a cigarette and staring at the ceiling. The ship's movement has become increasingly pronounced over the last hour and he knows they're about to enter a storm. They may have to change course if it becomes too severe, but it shouldn't pose a problem to their time-table. He thinks they will arrive at their destination within the two day window, most probably late in the evening on the 8th. That will suit him. The cover of darkness will lessen the chances of detection, as long as the seas aren't too rough. There is a knock on the door and the Captain pokes his head around it.  
"We're changing course to miss the worst of the storm."  
Andrei nods, and watches the smoke curl towards the ceiling.

- 0 -

_Same time  
Shetland Islands, the bird hide_

Harry is first to recover.  
"Try your mobile, Ruth."  
She digs it out of her coat pocket and checks the signal.  
"Nothing."  
They look at each other helplessly before Harry's frustration gets the better of him.  
"Masterful. We could be here all night! What's the matter with that bloody man?! Is he five years old, for God's sake?"  
Ruth sits down on one of the benches and tracks Harry's movements as he paces the length of the bunker restlessly, thinking about the bizarre turn of events.  
"What are you doing here?"  
Her question stops him in his tracks.  
"What?"  
"Are you spying on me and Jean-Paul?"  
"_What_?! No, of course not. I didn't even know he was here."  
The striking eyes remain on him questioningly as she registers that he did apparently know that _she_ would be here.  
"Why are you here, then?"  
Harry looks around a little guiltily until his gaze falls upon the birds on the cliff outside.  
"I got tired of making small talk, and decided to come and have a look at the, erm…" He gestures vaguely in the direction of the birds.  
"The puffins?" Ruth provides helpfully.  
"Right, the puffins." Finally meeting her eyes, he smiles sheepishly and sits down next to her.

When he starts to take off his tie and loosens the first few buttons of his shirt, she looks at him askance. He notices.  
"Might as well get comfortable."  
She smiles slightly and draws her coat closer around her against the chill in the air. They look at the puffins without speaking.  
"They are rather peculiar," Harry finally offers.  
"Hmm. They're known as the clowns of the ocean."  
He ponders that for a while before turning to her.  
"Are you going to tell me about you and McCintosh?"  
She mirrors his position on the bench and they sit facing each other.  
"Not much to tell," she begins hesitantly.  
When he merely lifts an eyebrow in disbelief she laughs a bit.  
"I know everyone thinks that I had a torrid affair with him or something, but that's not it at all."

Harry remains quiet and lets her tell the story in her own time. They have all night after all, he thinks ruefully.  
"He was a few years ahead of me at university, and quite the man-about-town. We used to joke that his major was seeing how many women he could sleep with. Then he started dating my best friend Annie."  
She shakes her head at the memory.  
"I thought she was out of her mind, but she rather stupidly believed that he was in love with her and would change his ways. After they'd been dating for about two months, she persuaded me to go with them to the trendiest social event on the university's calendar. It all started well enough, with Jean-Paul playing the role of attentive boyfriend admirably. Unfortunately, much later in the night and after having imbibed a lot of alcohol, his real colours began to show. He had the gall to come onto me right in front of Annie, and he wouldn't take no for an answer. After he'd pinned me to the wall and forced a kiss on me, I kneed him in the groin."

Harry regards her with amusement, and not a little pride.  
"Well done," he murmurs.  
Ruth shrugs.  
"Anyway, there were a lot of witnesses, and the story spread like wildfire. It put a dent in his reputation and he never forgot it."  
She brightens.  
"At least Annie finally saw the light and dumped him."  
"And tonight?" Harry asks, frowning. "What was going on when I came in?"  
She sighs. "He was up to his old tricks, trying to persuade me to sleep with him. When I said no, he tried to force me to kiss him. That's when you interrupted, thank God."  
Glancing at him, she says softly, "Good timing, Harry."  
He looks at her sharply, but is unable to read her expression in the gathering gloom. Realising that they need to find a source of light, he locates a few candles stuffed into empty wine bottles standing in a corner. A box of matches lies next to them. He places them around the bunker and lights them, and returns to his seat. His step falters for a moment when he looks at her; she is beautiful in the candlelight. His heart constricts at the sight of her and it makes him think about all that could have been.

Ruth notices that he is exuding an air of melancholy when he sits back down. She wonders at the cause of it, before realising that she has yet to tell him about the latest developments.  
"Catherine had some interesting information."  
Harry looks increasingly alarmed the longer she talks. He jumps to his feet and starts pacing again.  
"Stupid girl! She could be in danger. If McCintosh knows that she is onto him… I've got to get out of here – I need to protect her."  
"Harry-"  
"Why in God's name must she always get herself in trouble like this?"  
"Harry."  
"She should've told me. I swear, sometimes I wonder whether she uses that brain of hers at all-"  
"_Harry_!"  
He shuts up at her insistent tone.  
"McCintosh doesn't know that she's investigating him. She was standing next to me when he ran into me at the cocktail function, and he didn't recognise her at all. He has no idea who she is."  
Her voice becomes gentler. "She's safe for now."

Harry takes a deep breath, then sits down again.  
"Right. Sorry."  
"It's okay."  
She hugs herself, pressing her hands into her armpits for warmth.  
"Here." He takes off his gloves and offers them to her.  
Her first instinct is to refuse, but there is something vulnerable in his expression and it prevents her from doing so. She accepts them with a murmured 'thanks'. They are still warm from his own hands when she puts them on, and her heart moves inside her. She watches him stuff his now bare hands in his coat pockets and tuck his chin into the collar.

The only sound is their breathing; the thick walls of the bunker blot out the sound of the ocean and the birds outside.  
"I started watching cricket while I was in Cyprus," Ruth announces suddenly into the quiet.  
Harry looks at her, surprised. "I thought you hated all sport."  
"I did. I do. I just missed England so much, you know? It was a piece of home I could cling to. And I actually came to appreciate the game very much."  
He smiles. "In that case we should go to a Test sometime."  
It is only when she stiffens next to him that he realises what he's said.  
Looking away, he mutters, "Forget I said that."  
An awkward silence descends on the bunker once more.

Never taking her eyes off him, Ruth weighs her next words carefully before releasing them.  
"Why haven't you given up on me – on us?"  
Harry's head swivels towards her and he studies her face with intense eyes. Stunned by her choice of subject, he takes a long time to answer. When he finally does, his voice is soft and warily controlled.  
"You're one in almost seven billion, Ruth. Why would I give up on that?"  
She scans his face for any sign of teasing, but there is none. He is deadly serious. She waits, but he says nothing else and they lapse back into silence.

After a while Harry notices Ruth shivering slightly. He looks around the bunker, but there are no blankets to be seen. Knowing that they will have to do something soon to warm up, he clears his throat.  
"There is no way to say this without it sounding like a tawdry chat up line, but we're going to have to share body heat if we don't want to freeze tonight."  
Ruth turns her head to him, astounded. Anxious to prevent any misunderstanding, he continues.  
"I'm not suggesting we have sex. But we'll have to cuddle." She blanches at the mention of sex, so he presses on nervously.  
"It could have been worse." He trails off at the incredulous look on her face.  
"How exactly?"  
"Well, we have ablutions." He nods at the small room holding a toilet with a little wash basin in the corner.  
"At least we're spared the humiliation of trying to relieve ourselves in one of these bottles." She stares at him disbelievingly, before shaking her head and muttering something under her breath.  
He tries to save face by offering gallantly, "Ladies first."

While she is in the bathroom, Harry moves two cushioned benches together, then takes off his coat, jacket, cufflinks and belt. Ruth eyes his state of undress worriedly when she emerges.  
"It's best to have as few layers of clothing between us as possible if this is going to work," he explains. "We'll just have to ignore any embarrassment or, er, physical reactions this may cause."  
"Oh, right," Ruth says, not sounding certain about the turn of events at all and doing her utmost to keep her gaze on his face. Whilst Harry takes his turn in the bathroom, she removes her own coat, jacket and boots. She is eyeing the benches with trepidation when he comes back out. He avoids eye contact as he settles himself on his side, his back towards the wall, then waits for her to lie down in front of him. Once she is settled he covers them with both of their coats before carefully wrapping an arm around her waist and edging closer until his chest is lightly touching her back.

She is rigid against him and he sighs sadly.  
"Ruth, just for tonight, let's forget everything between us and concentrate on not getting hypothermia. Please?"  
He is relieved when she relaxes and presses more closely against him in response.  
"Goodnight, Harry," she says softly, and eventually they both drift into uneasy sleep.

- 0 -

_06 March, 02:00  
Barents Sea_

The storm has gotten progressively worse, and their attempt to sail around it has proven futile. Andrei is standing on the bridge, having given up on sleep after the ship had begun to pitch and roll violently. Roiling green water breaks across the prow every time the ship pitches down into a trough between two waves. She is shuddering under the force of the onslaught. Visibility has been reduced to zero as rain lashes down in sheets, and for the first time Andrei is truly grateful for the upgrades he has made to the navigational equipment.  
The Captain watches the instruments anxiously.  
"Will she hold?!" He has to yell to be heard over the tumult of the storm.  
Andrei watches another wave hurl itself at them.  
"She'll hold."

He has barely finished speaking when the ship rears up the flank of a monstrous wave, her bough pointing almost vertically up into the sky. She reaches the summit and teeters there for a few seconds, before pitching sharply down the other side with such force that Andrei is thrown across the bridge. The ship slams into the water below, the impact causing the whole vessel to shudder and groan. An alarm starts to wail and the Captain claws his way back to the instrument panel. He pushes some buttons, then looks apprehensively at Andrei who is gingerly picking himself up from the floor.  
"The capsule has broken loose. It has slammed into the bilge doors with enough force to buckle them."  
Andrei closes his eyes and turns to move down to the hold where the capsule is kept. But he knows already that it will be too damaged to complete the mission. He wonders what he is going to tell the man in London.

- 0 -

_05:00  
The bird hide_

Ruth slowly awakens to a feeling of warmth and safety. For a moment she is totally disoriented and uncertain of where she is, before registering the arm wrapped around her and cradling her against the warm body behind her. Finally remembering in whose arms she is lying, she snaps instantly fully awake. She lies motionless, taking stock. His deep breathing and the heaviness of the arm draped across her seems to indicate that he is still asleep. Half of her brain is screaming at her to move away from him, but the other half and her heart rebels against the notion. So she stays still, and concentrates all her senses on remembering this moment, this rare moment of physical closeness between them.

Their legs are entwined, and she realises belatedly that her hand is resting on his thigh. They are touching from hip to shoulder, and she registers with a jolt that one part of him is apparently very much awake. She is shocked by the overwhelming desire his physical reaction to her nearness awakens in her. Arousal pools deep and warm in her abdomen, and it takes every ounce of her considerable self control not to move against him. Ashamed and angry at herself, she starts edging away from him. His instinctive response is to tighten his arm around her.  
"Mmm, no, stay a bit longer." His voice is heavy with sleep, and she thinks she feels him press a kiss against the back of her head.

She panics, and begins to struggle in earnest.  
"No, Harry, let me go!"  
The urgency in her voice gets through to his sleep-addled brain, and he comes fully awake.  
"Ruth, what-"  
"_Let go_!"  
He yanks his arm away as though stung and scrambles backwards, away from her. Ruth shoots to her feet and stumbles into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. She leans against it, breathing heavily. When she closes her eyes, all she sees is the confused and hurt expression on Harry's face as she practically ran away from his touch. Raising her head, she studies her own expression in the mirror. It is full of self disgust, but also full of desire. She closes her eyes again.

After what she deems to be a suitable amount of time for both their mortification to have dissipated, Ruth ventures from the bathroom. Harry is sitting on the bench, his coat folded on his lap. He has put his jacket and shoes back on. He doesn't look up at the sound of the bathroom door opening. She only progresses two steps into the room before stopping uncertainly. His stillness unnerves her.  
"Harry, I'm sorry about all that. I didn't mean to-"  
"Yes, you did." His voice is soft and laced with humiliation. He still refuses to look at her.  
She is stung by his reaction, but she doesn't know what to do to soothe his hurt. Sighing deeply, she looks down at her feet.  
"Look, can we just pretend this whole debacle never happened?"  
And suddenly he is angry. He stands up abruptly, dropping the coat on the bench. Not making any attempt to hide his aroused state, he meets her eyes squarely.  
"You do what you want. I won't pretend that I don't have feelings for you, or that I don't find you desirable to the point of distraction."  
With that, he moves towards the bathroom, brushing past her in the process.

When he does so, Ruth reaches out and grabs his arm. He tries to shake her off, but she holds on determinedly. Harry stops, and his wounded gaze meets hers. They are centimetres apart. In that moment, Ruth realises with certain clarity that she loves him. She could fight it whilst their connection was mostly work related and borne of mutual respect; when she could fool herself that their attraction was based on a shared need to find companionship and emotional fulfilment. But this raw, open display of mutual desire is her undoing. She can no longer deny it: she _loves_him. She wants him.

Her hand slides down his arm and their fingers twine together.  
"Please," she says. Everything she is feeling is entrapped in that one word, and Harry hears it all. They move simultaneously and their lips meet. There is nothing tender about this kiss; it is hot and hard and passionate. Years of self denial, longing and love is poured into it, until it threatens to overwhelm them. Harry pushes her back against the wall and presses against her. He can't stop kissing her; he is drunk on the feel of her lips under his. His hand fumbles for her breast, and he moans into her mouth when her own hand encloses him.

The moment is interrupted by a scraping noise at the door. Ruth tears her mouth away and gasps, "Someone is about to open the door."  
Before Harry's lust-fogged brain can register what is happening, she has darted across the room, collected all their clothes, and stuffed his coat into his arms. Dumbly he follows her lead and shrugs it on, then watches in amazement as she spins the surprised caretaker a story about one of their friends playing a joke on them to explain their presence. Still unable to form a coherent thought, let alone words, he merely nods at the man, clutches his coat closed in front of him, and follows her back to the hotel.

_tbc_


	5. Chapter 5

_06 March, 06:00  
Shetland Islands_

As they round the corner to the front of the hotel, Ruth suddenly stops. Most of Harry's blood still being elsewhere than his brain, he is a little slow on the uptake and walks into the back of her. He looks over her shoulder and sees Dimitri departing the hotel in the opposite direction. Luckily he doesn't notice them.  
"On his way to investigate the coordinates," Harry murmurs.  
They continue into the hotel once he is out of sight.

In the lift they station themselves at opposite ends, as though they need as much distance as possible between them. In Harry's case it is certainly necessary as his self control is still nowhere to be found. All he wants to do is pin her to the nearest wall and continue where they left off. The only thing stopping him is an overwhelming fear that she has changed her mind. He doesn't look at her, petrified that the interruption has allowed her time to build up her barriers again. But when he finally lifts his head, her gaze is on him, radiating desire.  
"It will be two hours before anyone may need us," she says in a low, husky voice. There is no mistaking her meaning and his breathing speeds up involuntarily. Fraternisation during an operation is against his personal rules, and hers too. But with everything that's happened, and not least the events of the last 24 hours, his judgement has been seriously impaired. This is _her_, the person he trusts more than any other, and the woman he loves with every fibre of his being. He does not for one second consider saying no.

As soon as the lift stops on their floor, Harry leads the way out. His room is closer, and they reach for each other the moment the door closes behind them. They can't remove their clothes fast enough, can't stop kissing as they move to the bed and fall onto it in a tangle of limbs. When they finally come together, after so much time and hardship, it is momentous.  
Ruth says, "Yes… Oh Harry yes," before he kisses her again hungrily and any coherent thought is washed away by a tumult of sensations.

- 0 -

_06:30  
Lerwick harbour_

"Ah, there you are, laddie," the Scottish commander of the Coast Guard contingent greets Dimitri.  
"We'll have to hurry – there's a big storm coming."  
Dimitri hops on board and they immediately heave off. He looks around the immaculate boat.  
"Did you manage to get the diving equipment I asked for?"  
The Commander nods and points towards the cabin.  
"In there."  
Once they are clear of the harbour Dimitri provides them with the coordinates, then goes into the cabin to check the equipment.

He derives an inordinate amount of pleasure from being back on a boat, heading out to sea and adventure. This, and the events of the last few months make him wonder, for a moment, whether he made a mistake in leaving the SBS to join MI5. Was he blinded by the secrecy, the glamour of being a secret agent? Is he perhaps more suited to being a soldier, where at least you're sure who the enemy is? Shaking himself mentally, he banishes these thoughts. He has never been someone that gives up easily, and he will stick with this job and make a success of it. In time, he hopes the doubts will recede, along with his self recrimination for not recognising that something was going wrong with Lucas. He wonders how Harry copes with it all. The man has been in the service for more than thirty years, suffering God knows how many betrayals, losses and failures. And yet he is still standing, still fighting. But at what cost? Thinking again about recent events, he hopes that he will have the opportunity to love someone deeply enough to risk losing everything for them. He's heard that Ruth once gave up everything to save Harry as well, and he wonders again at their strange relationship.

Bringing his focus back to the task at hand, he checks the diving gear carefully before putting on the wetsuit. The Commander calls to him.  
"Laddie, you'd better come and see this!"  
Back on deck the Commander points to a huge structure taking shape on the horizon.  
"It's an oil rig."  
Dimitri ponders this and makes a decision.  
"Okay, radio them and get permission to check the submerged structure. Then drop me off as close as you can get, and I'll take a look."  
The Commander checks the sky and the growing swells worriedly.  
"We have to head back in half an hour, or we'll be hit hard by the storm."  
Nodding, Dimitri goes back into the cabin to finish his preparations.

The Commander calls him out when they are in position, and he steps off the diving platform into the icy water. As he sinks down, he switches on the powerful hand-held light and approaches the oil rig's underwater structure. He circles it slowly, gradually increasing his depth. At about fifteen metres down he spots something on the piping that brings the oil up from the ocean floor. Closer inspection shows it to be an electronic device. Dimitri takes various images of it before checking for any signal transmissions. To his surprise he picks up a strong signal on a frequency he is rather familiar with. He can't help thinking that Harry will love this. Leaving the device in place, he slowly makes his way back to the surface.

- 0 -

_07:30_

Ruth is snuggled against Harry's side, idly tracing irregular patterns on his chest. He is lying on his back whilst slowly running his fingers through her hair. When she lifts her head to look at his face, he has the most content expression she has ever seen on him. It makes her smile. She doesn't want to ruin this perfect moment, but there are things she needs to know.  
"You really think we can do this; see each other and continue to work together?" She asks the question in the manner of someone who is afraid to hear the answer, but his reply is immediate and certain.  
"Yes I do. Otherwise I wouldn't be here now." When she frowns, he continues.  
"If we adhere to a few basic ground rules, we have as good a chance as any other couple to succeed."  
"Like what?"  
"Well, you'll always have to do as I say, for starters."  
Her hand stills on his chest and she looks at him uncertainly. He seems quite serious for a few moments, before a smile creeps around the corners of his mouth. Relieved, Ruth shakes her head at him.  
"Funny."

He laughs softly, then sobers.  
"Seriously though. I don't expect you to always agree with my decisions, but you can't challenge me in front of the team. We do that in private, yes?"  
She nods. "Agreed. What else?"  
"We leave the work at work. God knows, we spend enough time there. We shouldn't waste the precious little time we'll have together on discussing more work."  
"Yes."  
"Oh, and we don't take work arguments home with us either."  
"Hmm. Especially as we're bound to have enough other disagreements to contend with. We can both be rather stubborn, you know."  
There is still a note of concern in her voice. In response, Harry lifts her chin with his finger and looks her in the eye.  
"We'll figure it out, Ruth. After all, we're two mature adults of above average intelligence who want to be together. Right?"  
It is Harry's turn to sound uncertain. She lifts her hand to his cheek and caresses the stubble there, her eyes soft.  
"Absolutely."

He's about to reach for her again when his phone rings. Groaning, he retrieves it and looks at the caller ID.  
"Towers," he informs her before answering.  
"It's a little early, Home Secretary."  
"Yes, well, it's all good news Harry." Towers chuckles before continuing.  
"I want you to have a massage with me at nine. I need to discuss a few security issues with you."  
Harry is flabbergasted. He wonders whether he heard correctly.  
"I'm sorry?"  
"Meet me at the spa at nine. We'll each get a massage while discussing a few things," Towers repeats.  
"Absolutely not!"  
Ruth lifts her head questioningly at Harry's adamant tone. Towers' patience snaps.  
"For God's sake. Why must everything be a bloody battle with you?! It's not torture, it's a massage! I'm trying to do you a favour. You've been strung tighter than a violin after the debacle with your Section Chief. You need to relax, which is the aim of a massage, or so I'm told. So be there at nine. With a grateful disposition." He abruptly disconnects the call.

Harry tosses his mobile onto the bedside table.  
"Terrific," he grumbles.  
"What?"  
He tells her what the Home Secretary wants, and she looks at him as though he is mad.  
"A massage… It'll be wonderful. Why don't you want to go? What do you have against massages?"  
Now it is his turn to look at her as though she isn't all there. He says pointedly, "Am I, or am I not currently sporting a rather vivid love-bite on my chest?"  
Ruth's eyes widen before darting to said blemish situated right over his heart. Her fingers stroke over it and she begins to laugh.  
"Oh God, I'm sorry, Harry."  
She can't stop laughing, and Harry decides he'll happily suffer any mortification about to come his way if he could regularly hear such an expression of carefree joy from her. He suddenly rolls her under him, his eyes laughing with her.  
"You'll have to make it up to me before I go, then."

- 0 -

_08:30_

Beth is circling the hotel's expansive lawn, sneaking from shrub to shrub, trying to get as close as possible to two men talking under the pagoda at the bottom of the garden. Once in range, she points the directional microphone and video recorder Tariq supplied her with at them and adjusts her earpiece. After overhearing McCintosh telling his assistant that he had a private meeting to attend at this time, she decided to investigate. To her considerable surprise she sees that the second person is the Home Secretary.

McCintosh speaks first. "Have you thought any more about my proposal, William?"  
"I told you, the decision about the oil concessions is not mine. It's up to the Energy Secretary."  
McCintosh shrugs. "Yes, but you know him very well. A word in his ear at the right time… Like I said, it will be worth your while. Five hundred Grand's worth."  
Towers looks troubled. "It's not about the money, JP. The problem is BP. They are a proven alternative with a strong track record."  
McCintosh looks incredulous. "Even after the Gulf of Mexico disaster?"  
Waving the objection away, Towers says, "That's only one incident. One swallow does not a summer make."  
"What if it happens again? Here in the North Sea?"  
"They assured us it won't," Towers says confidently. "It's their new class of oil rigs that are deployed here. There has never been a problem with any of those."  
"Until now," McCintosh mumbles under his breath, then adds more audibly, "For fuck's sake, William, I'm not asking you to break any laws. Just a word in the right ear. I'll go up to seven-fifty, donated to your favourite charity. No one will ever know."  
Towers looks around, then nods reluctantly. "Fine, I'll see what I can do. I have to go, I have a massage booked."

Beth, still crouched behind a shrub, watches them move off, then sits back on her haunches thoughtfully. The first fat raindrops start to fall and she hurries back to the hotel. On the way in she runs into Dimitri, and immediately she can sense suppressed excitement from him. He grins at her.  
"I've had a fruitful morning," he announces happily.  
She grins back. "So have I."  
His face falls, then brightens again. "Right then, let's go see who can impress the boss the most."  
"You'll have to wait until ten. Harry's meeting with the Home Sec first. And you'll never guess where."  
They disappear into the hotel, laughing.

_10:00_

Dimitri, Beth and Tariq are gathered around the table as Ruth bustles into the meeting room.  
"Where's Harry?" She addresses the question to the room in general.  
It is Beth that answers, with what Ruth recognises as a pitying look, presumably about the perceived lack of communication between her and Harry. "Towers asked him to meet at the spa. They're having a massage." Dimitri laughs at that. "Can you imagine the Home Secretary naked? That's not a sight I'd want to see this early in the morning."  
He trails off when Harry strides into the room, looking remarkably upbeat and relaxed. Their boss seems to actually be smiling slightly. They all stare at him. Harry looks between them.  
"Is there something on my face?"  
"A smile," Dimitri mutters.  
"Er, no," says Beth, smirking, "but you seem very relaxed this morning. The massage really worked, huh?"  
Harry carefully avoids looking at Ruth.  
"Apparently so. Shall we start?"

He settles at the table. "Ruth."  
She nods at him and takes up the briefing. "According to Catherine, McCintosh tried to bribe a radical environmental movement, known as the _Saviours of the North Sea_, to sabotage one of BP's oil rigs. The aim of which, I suspect, is to ensure that his own company receives the oil concessions from the government. We don't yet know whether the environmentalists agreed to do it."  
"That's not all McCintosh is doing to secure the concessions," Beth adds. She plays them the recording of that morning's meeting. Afterwards, Harry stares at the screen with a strange glint in his eye.  
"Tut tut, William," he says softly, almost to himself. Once again they all stare at him in bemusement, trying to fathom why he would look almost happy about this development.

Instead of elaborating, he lifts an eyebrow at Dimitri, silently asking him to report on his early morning trip. Dimitri dutifully does so.  
"There's an oil rig at the coordinates given in the encoded message, and Tariq has established that it is one of BP's. I had a look at the underwater structure, and I found this."  
He displays an image of the electronic device.  
Ruth asks, "What is it?"  
"It's a homing beacon," Tariq answers. "It sends out a signal on a very specific frequency to guide another vessel to it."  
Dimitri takes over.  
"Now here's where it gets interesting: that beacon is transmitting on the frequency used exclusively by the Russian navy's Special Forces division."  
Silence reigns whilst everyone digests this and thinks through the implications.

Harry looks at Dimitri.  
"Where is it now?"  
"I left it in place."  
"What?!" Harry is obviously not amused. "Care to explain your reasoning behind that particular decision?"  
Slightly less confident, Dimitri glances at the others.  
"I thought we could set a trap for them. Capture whatever vessel and personnel are coming."  
Harry is impressed by the daring behind the plan despite himself. Not unlike the way Dimitri's willingness to challenge him over Albany gained his respect.  
"Interesting idea. Let me think about it. It's a worry that we don't know what the beacon is for, or when the intended target will arrive. If the beacon were used to guide a missile or other weapon to destroy the oil rig, and we didn't stop it, we'll look like mugs. Not to mention having the deaths of the workers and an oil spill the likes of the Gulf of Mexico on our conscience. So you may have to go back and retrieve it if we don't get more information soon."  
Tariq glances out the window where rain is falling hard and the wind is whipping the trees to and fro.  
The beacon won't be effective in this weather. It needs calm seas to work."  
"Okay, good. That gives us some leeway until tomorrow. We'll make a decision then. In the meantime, Ruth, work the environmentalists hard, see if you can confirm whether they agreed to sabotage the oil rig. Beth, you stick to McCintosh, see if you can find out when this plan might be implemented."  
Finally he looks at Dimitri. "You investigate the Russian angle with Tariq. Get onto GCHQ again about communications similar to the one giving the coordinates. Let's try and put a date on this possible attack."  
They all nod and start to gather their papers.  
"Oh, and Mr Levendis." Harry's tone is severe.  
"Your sense of humour needs some work."  
Dimitri smiles sheepishly. So Harry had heard his comment about Towers. He leaves with a contrite nod.

Once everyone but Ruth has left, Harry smiles.  
"Actually," he says mischievously, "Towers' body _was_ rather a disturbing sight at such an early hour."  
Ruth laughs. "Did he comment about the, er, bruise on your chest?"  
"He did about the biggest double-take I have ever seen when I took off my shirt, but to his credit, he stopped short of winking at me and calling me 'stud'."  
She laughs again. "Good." Then she becomes serious. "What are you going to do about Towers and McCintosh?"  
He purses his lips. "Nothing. For now."  
The answer surprises Ruth and she studies him carefully. He is up to something, she can tell. Noticing her puzzlement, Harry says, "Why did I agree for us to provide security for the conference, do you think? It's not normally our thing, unless there's a specific threat."  
Understanding dawns. "Ah," she says.  
Harry says nothing, merely gives her a conspiratorial look.

- 0 -

_12:00  
Nordic Sea_

Andrei flings the pliers down in disgust. It is no good; he simply can't fix the damage to the homing sensors in the capsule's nose. They have passed through the worst of the storm, and the ship is riding the swells more evenly. He trudges back to his cabin and retrieves the satellite phone. This time, it takes much longer for the call to be answered.  
"Yes," the voice says curtly.  
Andrei gets straight to the point. "The capsule was damaged in the storm. I can't fix it. We'll have to abort."  
The voice takes on an unpleasant snarl. "That's not an option. It has to be done as agreed. I don't care if you have to personally fucking swim the North Sea to do it, but you will get it done. Or you will rue the day you ever met me. Do I make myself clear?"  
Andrei sits back on his bunk, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers thoughtfully. The threat has given him an idea.  
"Your threats don't scare me. But my people need the money. So I will follow your suggestion."  
There is a pause before the voice asks sarcastically, "You're going to swim there?"  
"In a manner of speaking. I can use the small hand-held sensor. The only problem is that the ship will have to leave the shipping lanes to drop me close enough. That may attract attention."  
"I'm willing to take that risk," the voice replies. "If you switch off the ship's running lights and do it under cover of darkness, the ship may go undetected. Fine. Use the hand-held sensor then. When?"  
"The evening of the eighth."  
"Night after tomorrow. Perfect."  
The line goes dead.

Back at the hotel, Catherine is interviewing the Energy Secretary at one end of the conservatory. She notices McCintosh having an intense discussion on his mobile at the other end, and makes sure she captures him in the background. She doesn't notice his assistant looking in her direction.

_tbc_


	6. Chapter 6

_06 March, 21:00  
Shetland Islands_

Ruth wearily makes her way to Catherine's room. She has had a frustrating day trying to get information from the environmental contingent. Without success. They are either consummate liars, or know nothing. Ruth is leaning towards the latter. None of the people she spoke to showed any sign of deviousness. When Catherine doesn't answer her knock, she uses the cloned key card Tariq had made for her to open the door. Inside, Catherine is hunched in front of a monitor with a pair of earphones clamped on her head. Ruth watches over her shoulder as she manipulates some dials, finally bringing McCintosh in the background into focus.

"What's this?"  
"Bloody hell!" Catherine whirls around at the sound of the other woman's voice.  
"Ruth! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" She turns back to the monitor and reaches for the controls to bring the Energy Secretary back into focus.  
"I'm just editing my interview from this morning," she says casually. Not fooled in the slightest, Ruth reaches over her shoulder and stills Catherine's hand. They both look at the man on the screen, a mobile pressed to his ear.

Catherine sighs.  
"Look, we don't have to tell my Dad, do we?"  
"No, we don't _have_ to," Ruth says easily before leaning in closer, a frown appearing between her eyes. "Can you zoom in on that mobile he's using?"  
Surprised, Catherine does so, and watches Ruth's frown deepen.  
"What is it?"  
Ignoring the question, Ruth instead asks, "Can you isolate what he's saying?"  
The younger woman shakes her head. "I don't have the equipment for that."  
Before she has finished speaking, Ruth is reaching for her own mobile.  
"Tariq, you still in the Ops Centre?" She listens briefly. "Good. I'll be right there."  
She turns to Catherine. "Come on, and bring that recording."  
As they leave Catherine asks, "How did you get into my room?"  
Once again Ruth ignores the question.

After introducing Tariq and Catherine to each other, she hands the techie the recording. "We need to hear what McCintosh is saying in the background."  
"No problem," Tariq says, eager to impress the boss' pretty daughter. Catherine's eyes widen upon seeing the array of electronic equipment scattered around the room, and Tariq launches into a very technical explanation of how the equipment he is going to use works. Ruth watches for a moment in amusement before stepping quietly into the corridor and making a call.  
"Hi, it's me. There's something you need to see."

After a few minutes McCintosh's voice can suddenly be heard clearly through the room. At that exact moment Harry enters. Catherine starts, then glares at Ruth accusingly.  
"Thanks a lot. I should've known you'd go running to him."  
Harry glances between his daughter and his beloved analyst.  
"Don't blame her. She was doing her job," he says evenly. He turns to Ruth. "What've we got?"  
She explains briefly, before they lapse into silence to listen to McCintosh. They look at each other in surprise after a few words.  
"What language is that?" Catherine asks.  
"Russian," Harry answers, a little perplexed.  
"Bad Russian," Ruth can't help but point out, causing Harry to smirk.  
She translates as they go along, and the three spooks glance excitedly at each other when they hear the businessman mention the night of the eighth.  
Harry turns to Catherine with a proud look on his face. "Well done, love." His daughter beams at the praise.  
"Now, this is really important. Did he see you filming him?" There is concern in his voice.  
Catherine shakes her head, and Harry looks relieved. "Good. Good." He turns to Ruth. "Get Dimitri and Beth in here."

Once Catherine has left, Ruth says, "There's something else."  
She instructs Tariq to zoom in on the mobile. Harry leans forward and squints at the screen. "Is that…?"  
Tariq nods. "It's one of MI6's specially designed encrypted satellite phones."

_21:30_

The whole team is gathered in the Ops Centre and everyone has been brought up to date. Harry's face is set as they contemplate the latest developments.  
"Could it be some sort of black op from Six?" Beth looks at Harry as the man with the most experience of Six's workings.  
He shrugs. "I don't know of any. Perhaps I'll make a few calls."  
He steps out of the room, and Ruth quickly turns to the others. "We need to keep an eye on Catherine."  
Dimitri looks at her incredulously. "You want us to spy on the Boss' daughter?"  
"Yes," she says calmly. "But for her own safety. If McCintosh finds out what she's busy with, she could be in danger. Harry can't use Service resources to protect his own daughter without it looking like nepotism, so we'll do it on our own initiative." She looks at them imploringly. They still appear dubious so Ruth says impatiently, "Harry loves his daughter, and he will literally kill anyone who harms her. I think we can all agree that that's a complication we can do without on this operation."  
Beth is the first to nod. "I agree. Tariq, can we use one of the roaming surveillance sets in Catherine's room?"  
He nods. The door opens and Harry walks back in, so Tariq murmurs quickly to Ruth, "I'll show you how to do it later."

"Six denies all knowledge of McCintosh," Harry declares.  
"Do you believe them?" Ruth asks.  
Harry ponders a moment before nodding. "I do. I applied some pressure, but the answer didn't change. This is not an officially sanctioned operation."  
Dimitri frowned. "So you think one of Six' agents may be operating on own initiative in some way?"  
"Possibly," Harry shrugs. "Or McCintosh got the phone some other way."  
Ruth lifts her head. "Maybe from whoever is about to execute the sabotage."  
Harry rubs a hand across his face in frustration. "Anything's possible, and we won't figure it out tonight. At least we have two days to get more information and prepare. I suggest we all get a good night's sleep while we still can." He nods at them and walks out the door. When everyone else has left, Ruth turns back to Tariq.  
"Can you do something for me?"

_22:15_

Ruth is about to start undressing for a shower when there is a soft knock at her door. She opens it to find Harry leaning against the doorjamb.  
"Can I come in for a while? I'm sorry, I know it's late."  
She smiles softly. "Of course."  
While she closes the door, he wanders over to the window. The storm outside is at its zenith, and flashes of lightning light his face as he stares out into the darkness. There is great worry and even a little fear in his expression.  
"Hey," Ruth says softly, running her hands up his back and over his shoulders, before wrapping her arms around him and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. "We'll look after her."  
He turns in her arms and searches her face. "I can't ask you to do that, you know that."  
"You don't have to – _you_ know that." Her hands wrap around his neck and pull his mouth down to hers. They kiss languidly, savouring each other. When they finally part, he smiles at her gratefully.  
"I don't know what I'd do without you, Ruth. I owe you one."  
She smiles back, her eyes an aroused smoky grey. "In that case - I was about to take a shower. I can do with some help washing my back."  
He kisses her again. "Your wish is my command," he murmurs against her mouth, his voice low and deep with desire as he backs her towards the bathroom.

For the second time that day he forgets all about his personal rules, and makes love to her standing up in the shower. He can't remember the last time he's done something like this, but it feels good, oh so good. He vaguely registers pain as her nails dig into his shoulders, and will much later be thankful that the Home Secretary doesn't schedule another morning meeting at the spa.

- 0 -

_07 March, 08:00  
Shetland Islands_

Harry's knees protest as he descends the few steps into the breakfast room. He winces and smirks to himself as his eyes sweep the room. Noticing Ruth sitting by herself at a corner table, he fights the urge to join her. Instead he collects a copy of the Financial Times from the rack next to the steps and looks for an empty table, but unexpectedly finds his path blocked by McCintosh. The businessman leers at him.  
"Did you enjoy your night in the bird hide then, mate?"  
Harry glares at him. Out of the corner of his eye he is aware of Ruth's head turned in their direction, and he restrains the impulse to do the man bodily harm.  
"Grow up, _mate_," he retorts instead and moves to push past McCintosh. Jean-Paul blocks his way.  
"Bet it was a cold and miserable night. That bitch wouldn't put out to save her own life."  
Harry takes a deep breath and slowly turns his head. McCintosh takes an involuntary step back from the coldness in the other man's expression.  
"Or perhaps she merely displays good taste in choosing whom she 'puts out' for, as you so charmingly put it," Harry says in a deceptively pleasant tone.  
McCintosh's face flushes angrily. Harry holds his look until the other man turns away.

Sighing, he moves towards an empty table and seats himself. He has barely sat down when the Under Secretary for Energy approaches and grabs the other chair at the table.  
"May I, Harry?" She sits down before Harry can answer and while he is still in the process of standing up, like a gentleman does.  
He smiles stiffly at her. "Of course."  
He watches morosely as Ruth leaves the breakfast room, not missing the amused look on her face as she passes their table. Despite the Under Secretary's best efforts, their conversation is desultory at best as Harry's heart is simply not in it. It is with great effort that he hides his relief when his mobile rings fifteen minutes later.  
"Yes?"  
"Would you like to have a crisis at the office that needs your attention," Ruth asks teasingly, "or are you enjoying your breakfast?"  
Harry feigns his best expression of concern, before barking, "_What_? I'm on my way." He hears Ruth laugh softly as he disconnects, then looks at the Under Secretary apologetically before making his excuses and escaping.

_10:20_

Ruth is in the Ops Centre with Tariq, checking whether the feed from the surveillance equipment in Catherine's room is coming through successfully, when the communication from GCHQ comes in. They have finally narrowed down the destination of the coded message that provided them with the coordinates, and have also located a telephone call made from the same location at roughly the same time.  
"Unfortunately they only have one end of the conversation," Tariq explains as soon as the rest of the team arrives. He plays it, and Ruth translates:  
"_The test was run successfully last night. She's old, but we've fixed everything that needed to be fixed, and replaced some of the navigational equipment with more modern electronics. The launch went smoothly, the capsule was able to complete the round trip and was retrieved again without any problems. We are ready._"

Harry frowns. "And right after this the coordinates were sent?"  
Ruth nods. "To a location in the middle of nowhere in Siberia."  
"I'm running voice recognition." Tariq waves at another console in the background.  
Dimitri looks thoughtful. "That location is on the route the decommissioned Russian ships would have taken. Tariq, have we received the list of Cold War ships that seems to have disappeared?"  
"Oh, yes." Tariq reaches for a paper lying on the table. "Came in about half an hour ago."  
They all watch intently as Dimitri scans the list. "Yes." He looks up at a ring of questioning expressions.  
"Harry, I think he's talking about one of these ships that disappeared. We dubbed it the 'bullet carrier'. From the outside it looks like a normal fishing vessel, but it's been adapted to launch a capsule that can hold one man. The capsule has sensors in its nose and is guided to a specific target by a homing beacon, such as the one I found on the oil rig. The man inside can then use a remote controlled arm to plant explosives or listening devices, or do all manner of things."

Remembering something, Ruth pulls the transcript of McCintosh's recent phone call to her. "McCintosh talks about hand-held sensors, not a capsule."  
"Tariq. Pull up a map and pinpoint the origin of the call on it," Harry instructs.  
Once he's done so, Dimitri leans over his shoulder, studying it. "Let's assume they departed from the Laptev Sea the day after the call was made. Can you map their probable route, and put in the path of the storm?"  
Beth leans forward. "You think the capsule was damaged in the storm?"  
Dimitri shrugs. "It's possible."  
Tariq looks up. "They would've passed through the storm at some point," he says, pointing to the monitor.  
"So instead of using the capsule, the ship is now going to pass close enough to the oil rig to give a diver with hand-held sensors a chance to reach it, do his business and get picked back up?" Harry looks at Dimitri. "Is that possible?"  
"Sure. It'll have to be a damn good diver, though."

At that moment the console behind them beeps. Tariq rolls his chair over. "We've got a voice match."  
Everyone crowds around the young techie.  
"Andrei Gelashvili. One of the Russian Navy Special Forces' brightest stars until he deserted in 2008."  
Ruth turns to Harry, and he needs only one look at the excited expression on her face to know she's figured this out.  
"2008. That was when Russia and Georgia fought over South Ossetia." She is met by blank expressions, and sighs exasperatedly. "Gelashvili is a Georgian name."  
Harry sees it now too. He feels like hugging her, but nods gravely instead. "His parents were probably forced from Georgia whilst it was still part of the USSR, but made sure young Andrei here never forgot his heritage."  
"Exactly," Ruth says, beaming at Harry. "We'll probably find that he stayed in Russia when the USSR broke up, and got the best military training they could offer. Until Russia went to war with his real motherland, and he left to fight for Georgia."  
"And," Harry continues, "MI6 ran a huge operation in that war – on Georgia's side. Which means that Gelashvili probably had contact with Six's agents, and were given the satellite phones to communicate with them."  
Ruth takes over. "My guess is that Gelashvili is doing this for money. Georgia has struggled to secure significant international assistance since the war, especially for rebuilding their military assets. When the environmentalists refused to be bribed, McCintosh somehow found a man with a cause that needed money."

The thrill of figuring it all out makes them momentarily forget that there are other people in the room, and they stand staring at each other, the air crackling with attraction. Dimitri, Beth and Tariq look on patiently; after Albany there is little concerning Harry and Ruth that still surprises them. Finally, Dimitri clears his throat.  
"If he's Russian Navy Special Forces, he'll certainly have the diving skills to pull this mission off."  
He turns to Harry. "Do we capture him, or do we just remove the homing beacon?"  
Harry ponders silently, staring absently at the photograph on the screen. Ruth watches him with concern etched on her face. She knows what he's thinking; that here is a man who is trying to protect his country, but at the same time could give them a tremendous amount of information about Russia's Armed Forces. It's the old conundrum: human decency versus the good of the Realm.  
Harry turns half away and his shoulders sag a little. "We capture him," he says quietly. "I'll talk to the Home Secretary, get approval for Navy backup."  
He meets Ruth's eyes briefly before turning and leaving the room, and she closes her own sadly.

- 0 -

_11:00_

"Dear God, Harry," Towers rubs his forehead with thumb and forefinger. "I can't take you anywhere without you conjuring up some kind of outlandish plot."  
They are in the Home Secretary's suite. Towers gets up and moves to the window, his back on Harry. "You're sure that McCintosh is behind this?"  
Harry watches the broad back intently. "Yes. We have audio and visual proof, Home Secretary."  
He pauses before asking sympathetically, "Do you know him well?"  
Towers glances sharply at Harry, trying to gauge how much he knows, but as usual he finds the spook impossible to read. "I… knew his father well. We were at university together."  
"And you had no inkling that he would go to such lengths to secure these oil concessions?" Harry carefully watches the Home Secretary's expression.  
Towers looks out the window again. "None."

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he finally turns fully towards the other man. "You're going to have to handle it with the resources available to you at present."  
Startled, Harry blurts, "What?"  
"I'm not authorising the use of the Navy. In fact, I'm ordering you to remove the homing beacon. I don't want any attempt made to capture this Georgian."  
"That's absurd!"  
"Excuse me? Last time I checked I was still your superior. Now just bloody do as you're told." Towers' jaw is set stubbornly.  
Harry's voice lowers to a dangerous pitch. "What are you implying, Home Secretary?"  
"You want me to spell it out for you?"  
"Yes, that is exactly what I want. Let's put all the cards on the table, shall we?"  
Towers glares at him. "Fine. You're still in your job only because I went to bat for you. I got the Inquiry to grant you a stay of execution on the understanding that you remain as long as I'm satisfied with your performance. If you defy me on this, I will no longer be satisfied with your performance. Is that clear enough for you?"

Harry stares at the other man unblinkingly. Towers can feel sweat starting to run down his spine. The spook grinds out his next words.  
"Perfectly. You want to protect McCintosh, so you want us to make the problem go away without uncomfortable questions being asked afterwards." He gets up abruptly and stalks towards the door.  
Towers frowns, confused. "What are you going to do?"  
Harry turns at the door. "I don't think you've given me any choice in the matter. I'm going to let corruption take its ugly course." He slams the door behind him with considerable force.  
Towers stares at the closed door for a few moments before turning and angrily kicking a dustbin across the room. He's not sure who he's angrier with; McCintosh, his infuriating Head of Counter Terrorism, or himself. Perhaps it had been a mistake to keep Harry in his post, and he wonders whether he should get rid of him after this fiasco has been sorted out.

_tbc_


	7. Chapter 7

_07 March, 12:00  
Shetland Islands_

Harry runs into Ruth and Beth in the corridor outside his room. Ruth looks at the thunderous expression on his face worriedly.  
"What happened?"  
"Not now, Ruth!" He yanks open his door and slams it closed behind him.  
Beth lifts an eyebrow at Ruth and pretends not to notice the slightly hurt expression on the other woman's face.  
Trying to change the subject, she says, "Right, I'm off to try my charms on McCintosh. Any advice?" She smiles at Ruth cheekily.  
"Yes. Don't knee him in the groin," Ruth states flatly before disappearing down the corridor.  
"Ookay," Beth says to herself before walking in the other direction.

_14:00_

SMS message:  
_All to OC now. H_

Harry is pacing the Ops Centre behind an uncomfortable looking Tariq as the others file in one by one. When all are accounted for, Harry states without preamble, "I've been ordered not to capture Gelashvili."  
He is met by various exclamations of disbelief.  
Beth asks, "So what do we do now?"  
Harry smiles mirthlessly. "We capture Gelashvili."  
Silence reigns as the others exchange uncertain looks.  
Ruth, still a tad miffed at the curt dismissal he gave her earlier, says more forcefully than strictly necessary, "You'll have to give us more than that, Harry."  
He purses his lips. "Towers wants to protect McCintosh's reputation, but I think there is a way around this."  
As he explains his strategy, Dimitri starts to nod. "You devious bugger, Harry," he says approvingly.  
Ruth smiles slightly, remembering again why she fell in love with this man in the first place.  
Their boss ignores the comment and looks at them all. "Anyone who doesn't want to be part of this scheme should say so now."  
No-one speaks.  
"All right," he says, "let's get it done then. War council this evening after dinner."

As they disperse with a spring in their collective step, Harry says, "Ruth, a word please."  
He waits until everyone is out of earshot. "Sorry," he mumbles, "about earlier."  
She nods tersely. "Thanks."  
When she turns to go, Harry asks in a surprised tone, "Wait, you're still angry? I apologised."  
Ruth rolls her eyes. "'Sorry' isn't a miracle cure for everything, Harry." She adds, more gently, "I have to go meet with your daughter, so we'll talk later."  
He is still standing in the same spot rather forlornly when she gets into the lift.

_21:50_

It is late when Harry finally gets to his room after a trying day. He is badly in need of a drink but doesn't feel like mingling with the other guests in the bar, so orders a bottle of Scotch to be brought to his room instead. After shedding his jacket and tie, he gratefully pours the first of what he suspects will be a few drinks, and reflects on the day.

The one good thing that happened is that the logistics for the next day's operation has been sorted out. Despite their earlier acrimonious encounter, Towers was willing enough to schedule a meeting with the business delegation for the following night to keep McCintosh out of the way. Beth will also attend to keep an eye on him. Since no Navy backup will be available, all three Coast Guard boats will be involved in apprehending the Russian vessel and its crew. This means that Dimitri had to secure another boat for his part of the operation, as well as find someone to pilot it. Harry decided that he himself would do it, to the surprise of the rest of the team and Ruth in particular. He could tell that she wanted to argue, but he gave her a warning look and she kept her misgivings to herself.

Sighing, Harry is surprised to realise that he is at present more concerned about Ruth being angry at him, than the fact that he may be about to lose his job for the second time in a matter of months if the operation goes wrong. He is thinking about calling her, not wanting to go to bed without straightening things out between them, when there is a knock at the door. For once, it is the person he wants to see that is on the other side.

He pours her a drink and waits in apprehensive silence for her to say something. She takes a sip first before smiling at him uncertainly.  
"You're determined to go with Dimitri then?"  
"Who else do you suggest I use," he asks, doing his best to hide his annoyance.  
"Beth."  
He shakes his head. "I need her to watch McCintosh."  
"Tariq and I can do that, we can-"  
"Ruth," he interrupts gently, "neither of you are field officers. Things may turn ugly-"  
"Neither are you, not anymore!" It is her turn to interrupt him.  
He stares at her, trying hard not to be insulted by her lowly opinion of his field skills. "I'm only going to pilot a boat. Dimitri will be doing the heavy lifting," he says as reasonably as he can.

Her shoulders slump and her head drops down to the glass in her hands. "I know."  
"But?" he prompts.  
"You know what they say about the best laid plans," she says quietly, her voice laced with worry.  
He laughs suddenly and sits down on the sofa next to her, letting his head fall back to stare at the ceiling. "This relationship thing is a lot harder than one might expect, isn't it?"  
She turns her head to him and smiles slightly. "You want to change the answer you gave me yesterday when I asked you if we could do this?"  
"No," he says emphatically. "I choose to see it as a good sign that we each prefer the other to stay out of harm's way. I'd be concerned if you were willing to send me into danger without a second thought."

Ruth sobers immediately, thinking back to that horrible day when she had let him go off to meet Lucas and face probable death. She lifts a hand to caress the exposed skin on his chest. "I like to think that I can learn from past experiences."  
He watches her, his eyes dark in the muted light. He knows, too, what she's thinking about. Capturing the hand on his chest with his own, he brings it to his mouth and kisses the knuckles tenderly, doing his best to show her that he understands her actions that day. Unable to resist, he opens her fingers and slides the middle one into his mouth. When she happily gives in to his ministrations, he pulls back.  
"Does this mean I'm forgiven for my rudeness this morning, then?" He sounds hopeful, and she pretends to consider the question.  
"Hmm, not quite. It'll require something more, I think."  
"I really do know that I shouldn't take my frustrations out on you, but a man can't change who he is in one day," he says contritely.  
Her eyes sparkle at him and she slides her finger back into his mouth.  
"Thank you for that, but I was hoping for something along the lines of last night."

Perking up immediately, he smiles around her finger, before reality reminds him of his age.  
"I'm sorry," he says, sounding embarrassed, "but my knees can't cope with that two nights in a row. I am, however, open to any other suggestions you might have."  
Ruth sits up suddenly and removes his glass from his hand. Standing up, she looks down on him for a moment, her dark hair framing her face, before unceremoniously hitching up her skirt a little and straddling him.  
"How about this?"  
Harry groans a little. "Oh God, yes. Perfect."  
She runs her fingers through his short hair. "You sure you didn't have any other plans for tonight?"  
He is mesmerised by her eyes. "Well, I planned to drink, mostly," he says distractedly. She shifts slightly, making him gasp before he almost reflexively lowers his head to her breast. "But this is much better…"

- 0 -

_08 March, 16:00  
North Sea_

Andrei has been on the bridge for most of the day, plotting winds, currents and the ship's speed. He is as precise in this as though he is guiding a submarine through a narrow passage. He knows that one mistake will cause him to miss his mark, and he'll get only one chance at this. The Captain appears at his elbow and looks at the chart over his shoulder, then checks the ship's position. He nods, satisfied.  
"We're right on schedule. I'll slow her down now, make sure we don't have to leave the shipping lane before it's totally dark."  
"Good. I'll leave it in your hands." Andrei turns away to go and prepare his gear.  
The Captain's voice stops him. "Are you sure about this?"  
"Yes," Andrei says strongly. He looks piercingly at the captain. "Sometimes ignoble deeds need to be done to achieve noble objectives. This is for our country. Do not forget that."  
With that, he disappears through the door.  
The Captain turns to look out the window with a troubled expression.

- 0 -

_Same time  
Shetland Islands_

Ruth watches Catherine skilfully edit a piece of her documentary. She has stuck close to Harry's daughter all day. As it gets closer to crunch time, everyone seems to be getting more on edge. On quite a few occasions throughout the morning she glimpsed Harry in the background, anxiously keeping an eye on his daughter. Finally losing patience, Ruth took him aside and told him quite firmly to leave Catherine to her, and to get on with his own responsibilities. A soft squeeze of his arm conveyed her understanding of his anxiety, and mollified, Harry gave her a thankful look before disappearing for the rest of the day.

Now they were closeted in Catherine's room, and Ruth is determined to keep the younger woman here until everything has been settled. She glances at her watch; Harry should be in his room getting ready for his part in the evening's events, and she wants to see him before he goes off.  
"I'm going out for a while. Please don't leave your room, okay?"  
Catherine looks up with an exasperated expression. "Don't you think my Dad is taking this protection thing a little far? Surely anywhere in the hotel should be safe."  
Ruth thinks for a bit, before sitting down again. "He worries about you." She smiles. "He's very proud of your achievements, but I think he often wishes that you wouldn't go into all those war zones, or in this case try to unmask the corruption of a prominent and probably dangerous businessman, to make your films. He's got a lot to focus on right now, so for his sake let's make sure he doesn't have to worry about your safety on top of everything else."  
Catherine sighs, and nods.

Ruth is at the door when Catherine speaks again. "He made me what I am, you know."  
Stiffening, Ruth turns back, steeling herself to listen to a litany of Harry's failings as a parent. But when she looks at Catherine, the younger woman has a smile on her face.  
"He was a crap father, but he instilled an interest in the world in me. Did he ever tell you he took me to see the fall of the Berlin Wall?"  
Ruth shakes her head mutely, and Catherine continues. "And when he had us on weekends, we'd often watch the news together." She laughs. "God only knows why he thought that a suitable activity for small kids, but still. It taught me that there is almost always another truth behind the one we're being told, and that there are causes worth fighting for."  
She meets Ruth's eyes. "And that is one thing I am thankful to him for. You can tell him I said that."  
Ruth is quiet for a moment, a little overcome on Harry's behalf. She looks at Catherine with new eyes. "I think, perhaps, that is something you can tell him yourself. It'll mean the world to him."

Harry is in the process of donning the last of his combat gear when the door opens behind him. That means it can only be Ruth, to whom he had given the spare key card after their first night together.  
"I really should get you that cowbell."  
He turns and smiles at her as he fastens the utility vest's Velcro straps.  
"How's Catherine?"  
"Safe in her room." Ruth comes to a stop in front of him, rather liking the way he looks in the combat outfit.  
"I wanted to, erm…" She falters and looks away.  
Harry stops fiddling with the vest and frames her face with his hands. "I'm glad you came." He kisses her gently, before dropping his hands again. "I'll be careful. I have something wonderful to come back to now."  
"Yes. Yes, you do," Ruth says, and they smile at each other goofily.  
"Now, can you help me with this damn vest?"

_18:00_

The team is gathered in the Ops Centre for their final meeting. Harry and Dimitri cut intimidating figures in their bulky combat outfits, while Beth is snappily dressed to play her part as Eve Lynn at the business delegation's meeting.  
"Okay," Harry says. "You all know your roles. I don't need to tell you that we'll all probably be looking for other jobs if we muck this up. But I give you my word that I'll do everything I can to protect you. So," he looks at Beth. "Remember that Towers thinks the meeting is to prevent McCintosh from finding out too soon that his plan has failed and thus deny him time to implement an alternative plan. Don't give him any reason to suspect differently."  
She nods.  
"Nobody makes a move until we've confirmed to Tariq that the capture has been successful. Tariq, you're sure we won't have a communication failure?"  
"As sure as I can be. I've also, erm, commandeered the thermal image satellite, so I'll be able to monitor what's going on through that."  
Harry looks at him approvingly, "Excellent. Right then."  
Beth and Ruth get up to go. Ruth pauses at the door and gives Harry a last lingering look before closing it behind her.

- 0 -

_20:00  
BP oil rig, North Sea_

Harry eases the sleek, low riding boat to a standstill where the oil rig's underwater structure plunges into the ocean. It is new moon and pitch dark, making the black boat and its dark-clad occupants with blackened faces almost invisible. He uses the engines to keep the boat in place, then nods to Dimitri. The younger man gives his boss a thumbs up before quietly slipping into the water. As he descends, he has time to reflect on the skill with which Harry has handled the boat. It is a source of great relief to him, as the operation may need some fancy footwork to be pulled off successfully.

He only switches on his light when his diving watch indicates that he has passed ten metres in depth. The current is extremely strong and he is thankful for the line tethering him to the boat. At fifteen metres he circles the piping until he locates the homing beacon. With the utmost care, and following Tariq's instructions to the letter, he removes it before dousing the light and using the tether rope to find his way back to the boat.

_Same time  
North Sea_

The Captain checks their position carefully before instructing, "Kill the lights." Once the ship is totally dark, he changes course and slips out of the shipping lanes. Lifting his head, he nods at Andrei.  
"One hour."  
"One hour, aye," Andrei confirms, before finding his way down to the diving chamber by flashlight.

One kilometre to the west, the Coast Guard boat stationed outside the shipping lanes picks up the dark ship on radar. The Commander gets on the radio to Tariq.  
"Base, we have bogey on radar. She's begun her run-in. Should reach target in about one hour."  
"Copy that," Tariq says, "I've got them on the thermal satellite. Fall back now, I'll track their progress and let you know when it's time to move in."  
He changes channels before murmuring more quietly, "Alpha One, bogey is on its way. Estimated arrival one hour."  
"Copy that," Harry acknowledges just as Dimitri resurfaces next to the boat.

- 0 -

_20:55  
Shetland Islands_

Beth stifles a smile as McCintosh glances at his watch for the umpteenth time, while Towers drones on. The Home Secretary is delivering quite a performance, and she wonders how he will react to what happens later. Beth has had her doubts about whether she wants to stay with MI5 after the whole Albany mess. She has always prided herself on her ability to read people, and her faith in herself has been badly shaken by her failure to recognise what was happening with Lucas before it was too late. Similarly, she still can't believe that she never picked up on the depth of feeling between Harry and Ruth until Ruth had been kidnapped and Harry made his desperate play to save her. After all that, she doubted whether the team would be able to come together and work as an effective unit, but she has been impressed by the professionalism shown by all. And she is even more impressed by the daring ploy Harry is undertaking here. For the first time since she's joined, she fully understands the high regard her boss is held in by all who's ever worked for him. She is glad to be a part of it.

In Catherine's room, Ruth is listening to developments through her earpiece, while the younger woman paces the floor restlessly. It makes Ruth smile. Finally Catherine loses patience. "What's happening?"  
She knows she shouldn't, but Ruth takes pity on her companion. After removing her earpiece, she connects it to Catherine's sound equipment, allowing them both to listen in.

_Same time  
North Sea, near BP oil rig_

An alarm sounds through the ship. "All hands, prepare to flood diving chamber. Andrei, launch in two minutes. Repeat two minutes."  
Andrei shoves his breathing apparatus into his mouth and checks that the satchel with the explosives is securely fastened. He then ensures that the hand-held sensor is activated, and takes a firm grip on the propelling device. The water begins to rise around him in the diving chamber.

"Alpha One, bogey has stopped- Woah," Tariq says as the thermal blob moving away from the ship flares more brightly.  
"Target appears to have a propelling device. He'll be on you sooner than anticipated."  
"Copy that," Harry's voice answers calmly.  
Dimitri is already sliding into the water.  
"Wait, Alpha Two, check your emergency signal first," Harry instructs the younger man. Dimitri activates it and the tracking device on board comes to life.  
"Okay, good hunting."  
Dimitri waves and disappears beneath the water. They are stationed about one and a half kilometres east of the oil rig, and its lights are the only blip in the surrounding darkness. Now all Harry can do is wait.

Dimitri descends to fifteen metres, where the homing beacon is attached to the rope anchored to the boat, broadcasting happily on its very specific frequency. He unsheathes his diving knife and concentrates on his breathing. Now all he can do is wait.

Andrei focuses on the illuminated dial of the hand-held sensor, making sure he keeps the dot precisely between the two little lines. The current is carrying him along swiftly and he knows that if he overshoots the oil rig he will have to use up all the battery power of the propelling device to come back around. That will leave him an exhausting swim to get back to the ship.

Dimitri spots the low glow of the sensor's dial from some way off and readies himself. When Andrei estimates that he is about twenty metres away from his target, he switches on his light. To his confusion, there are no oil pipes to be seen, only a line dangling down in the water and a diver hovering behind it.

The unexpected light momentarily dazzles Dimitri, but he recovers quickly and kicks forward powerfully towards the other man. He has the advantage as his opponent's hands are occupied by holding the sensor and the propelling device. When he is almost on him, Andrei suddenly drops the propelling device and swings the sensor towards Dimitri's mask. Luckily the water makes swift movements difficult and Dimitri has time to avoid the blow. The two divers tangle, trying to come to grips with each other.

Up on the surface Harry sees the light going on, followed momentarily by large amounts of air bubbles rising to the surface.  
"Alpha Two has engaged the target," he reports. He glances at the emergency signal to ensure it is still working before checking the line securing Dimitri to the boat. As he does so it goes slack in his hand. Alarmed, he pulls it in, and can see that the end has been severed with a sharp knife. Cursing, he scrambles to the controls, and swings the boat around to keep pace with the emergency signal.  
"Alpha Two's line has been severed. I'm switching on the searchlight. Get the Coast Guard to move in now!"

Several feet underneath him, Dimitri and Andrei are tumbling through the water, borne along at a rapid rate by the current. As they are grappling, both are trying to bring their knives around and sever the other's air pipe. They are locked together, face to face, when a powerful light suddenly illuminates the water around them. The two protagonists stare at each other momentarily before Dimitri's eyes light up triumphantly. His knife slices through the other man's air pipe, but his euphoria is short-lived as Andrei follows suit only a second later. The current continues to drag them along as they struggle to get to the surface, lungs bursting. Darkness starts to creep in along the edges of his vision and Dimitri looks to the surface, still such a long way off. He realises that neither of them will make it. His last conscious action is to release his weight belt.

Harry is concentrating on following the emergency signal when he suddenly becomes aware of a droning sound close behind. At the same time Tariq yells in his ear: "Alpha One! The bogey is right on top of you! Get out of there! Get out of there now!"

The last thing Ruth and Catherine hear is Harry's voice saying, "Oh Christ-" followed by a loud bang.

_tbc_


	8. Chapter 8

_08 March, late night  
Shetland Islands_

There is only static on the comms. Ruth sinks down next to Catherine on the sofa, never taking her eyes off the audio equipment, willing it to come to life. Catherine has her hand pressed over her mouth. Her other reaches out and grabs Ruth's.  
"Is Dad- Is he-?" She can't say it.  
Ruth can't get any words out. After everything that's happened to them she does not for one second doubt that fate is cruel enough to rip him away from her, just as they've found the courage to be together. Tears start to gather at the corners of her eyes. Dimly she is aware of Tariq's frantic voice imploring Harry to answer.

- 0 -

_A few moments earlier_

When Harry looks over his shoulder, the dark shape of the Russian vessel looms over him. It is bearing down at great speed, pushing a large bow wave in front of it. Letting instinct take over, Harry guns the engine of the small craft and glances down at Dimitri's emergency signal. He'll have to cut right in front of the oncoming ship to reach him. Realising that every second could be crucial to his officer in the water, he yanks the sleek boat over in that direction. It catches the bow wave and ramps into the air, engines screaming.  
"Oh Christ," he mutters as he passes in front of the larger ship within touching distance, his adrenaline sky-rocketing. It is way too close for comfort.  
At the same moment, the Coast Guard fires a flare into the dark sky, which erupts with an ear-splitting bang.

Harry's vessel hits the water with a bone-jarring thud, throwing him off his feet momentarily. He lies on his back, stunned, until Tariq's panicked voice in his ear brings him back to the present. He scrambles to his feet and finally manages to gasp, "Base, Alpha One, I'm fine. I've lost Alpha Two and the target."

Back at the hotel, Catherine starts to cry in relief and clutches Ruth's hand even harder. Ruth closes her eyes gratefully, but only for a few seconds, before her concern shifts to her younger colleague.

Harry frantically scans the waters around him in the bright light of the flare. He spots two shapes drifting close together a few yards off. Worryingly neither of them is moving.  
"I've got them. I need help!" He doesn't waste time with codes any longer. The closest Coast Guard vessel diverts to him, reaching the two shapes at the same time Harry does. Scrambling to the side, Harry grabs Dimitri by his diving vest and with a strength borne out of desperation heaves him over the side in one go. As quickly as possible he gets his young officer in the right position and starts to resuscitate.  
"Come on, Dimitri. Come on, son." He pumps his chest before breathing into his mouth again.  
"Not another one. I won't lose another one…"

Ruth swallows hard at the anguish in Harry's voice. Catherine looks at her, her face ashen. "Is it always like this?"  
When Ruth doesn't say anything, Catherine shakes her head and says in a strangled voice, "I don't know how you people can do this day after day, year after year and stay sane."

Suddenly, miraculously, Dimitri starts to splutter and Harry turns him on his side, allowing him to cough the water from his lungs. He sits back, breathing deeply and continuing to pat Dimitri weakly on his back.  
"You're okay, you're okay," he says soothingly. Looking over to the Coast Guard vessel, he sees Gelashvili sitting up as well.  
Dimitri finally stops retching and sits up groggily.  
"Thanks Harry," he croaks eventually. After gulping some more sweet oxygen into his tortured lungs, he looks over at his boss. "Guess I'm the first of your officers to be kissed by you," he jokes weakly.  
"Not quite," Harry mutters. There is a moment of stunned silence that makes him realise what he's said, and he looks at Dimitri, startled.  
"Ah, of course, our lovely analyst got there before me," the younger man grins.  
Harry glares but his heart isn't really in it. A smile creeps around his mouth as he grumbles good-naturedly, "Shall we crack on?"

Catherine turns to Ruth with a smile. "I thought so. How long has it been going on?"  
Ruth is saved from answering by Harry informing her to start phase two.

- 0 -

They have all gathered on the Russian ship, its lights now turned on. The crewmembers regard the two men with their blackened faces with distrust and possibly even hatred. Harry ignores them.  
"Do you speak English?" He asks the question in Russian, looking at Andrei.  
The Georgian eyes Harry speculatively. "Yes."  
Harry nods at Dimitri and moves into the background.  
"We know you have been hired by Jean-Paul McCintosh to sabotage one of his competitor's oil rigs," the field officer says. "We also know you stole this ship from the Russians whilst it was on its way to be decommissioned and scuppered."  
He regards Andrei critically. "We don't appreciate people coming here to kill our citizens and pollute our waters to finance their wars."

The Georgian snorts. "Spare me the speeches, soldier boy. You lot would have done the same if it were your country under constant threat from a bigger, more brutal neighbour."  
There is silence.  
"And worse." Everyone looks at Harry in surprise. He steps forward to face Andrei. "We have done worse. I have a proposition for you."

- 0 -

Beth's phone vibrates and she glances at the message.  
_Now_  
She makes her way to the front of the room and whispers in the Home Secretary's ear.  
He looks at the business people gathered in front of him. "Ah, would you excuse me for a moment – something's come up."  
As he strides with Beth through the corridors, he asks curtly, "Is it done?"  
She opens the door to the Ops Centre for him. "I believe so," she says sweetly.  
He seems surprised to find only Ruth and Tariq in attendance. "Where's Harry?"  
Ruth steps forward. "We have him on video link, Home Secretary. Please step this way." She points him to a monitor on which Harry's blackened face can be seen.

Towers boggles for a moment. "Harry?! What the hell do you have on your face? And where are you?"  
"I'm on the Russian vessel we've just captured. There's someone I'd like you to meet."  
The camera moves to another man. "This is Andrei Gelashvili, also just captured by us." Andrei gives a little wave before the camera turns back to Harry.  
Towers is apoplectic. Turning a worrying shade of red, he yells at the monitor, "I _explicitly ordered_ you not to capture this man! You're fired! You're bloody fired!"  
Harry smiles grimly. "Ruth, if you would."

From behind Towers, his own voice can suddenly be heard, agreeing to help McCintosh secure the concessions. He swings around and stares at the video footage of their meeting. Where moments ago his face was flushed with rage, it has now turned white. He seems to sway on his feet, sweat beginning to form at his hairline. Slowly he turns back to Harry.  
"You put surveillance on me? On the _Home Secretary_?"  
"No," Harry lies smoothly. "The surveillance that captured your meeting was on McCintosh." That much is true at least. The spook regards the other man for a few seconds, before saying more softly, "Perhaps you should sit down. You seem a little pale."

Beth rolls another chair over and Harry waits until Towers sits down before saying, "I have a suggestion as to how we can solve this dilemma to the satisfaction of most sides."  
Towers sits silently, obviously still in shock.  
"I know that you want to protect McCintosh. I'm willing not to have him prosecuted, but I don't think he should get away scot-free. So here's what I suggest. Mr Gelashvili has agreed never to mention McCintosh during his debriefing, on the condition that the ten million McCintosh offered him is still paid over to Georgia. He will also willingly give us all the information he has on the Russian military. A very generous gesture, don't you think?"  
When Towers still doesn't respond, Harry says more firmly, "I want you, Home Secretary, to go and tell McCintosh that there's been an accident on one of BP's oil rigs here in the North Sea, and that this means his company will definitely get the concessions. Then Andrei will contact McCintosh, telling him the attack on the oil rig was successful, and insist that he transfer the funds immediately. We, in turn, have promised to let the crew go back to Georgia, and to be courteous in our questioning of Mr Gelashvili. Oh, we also get to keep the ship."  
Towers looks at Harry bitterly. "You have it all figured out, don't you?"  
Harry shrugs. "If you agree to this, no-one need ever know about that ill-advised meeting between you and McCintosh."

William Towers climbs slowly to his feet. Once he has pulled himself fully erect, he nods at Harry. "You're a cunning bastard, Harry. Well played."  
Without looking at the others, he leaves the room. Beth follows him out to ensure that he keeps his side of the bargain.

_Half an hour later_

Ruth and Tariq are the only ones in the Ops Centre when Tariq's computer beeps. "There it goes." He grins at Ruth. "McCintosh just transferred the money."  
She nods, satisfied. "Okay, I'm going to check on Catherine. Let Alphas know, will you?"  
Tariq gets on the comms. "Alpha One, the money has been transferred. You can come home now."

Twenty minutes later Beth wanders into the Ops Centre, a large grin plastered on her face. Tariq looks at her curiously. "Why do you look like the cat that got the cream?"  
"Towers just laid into McCintosh. When he told him that he'd been played and that he can forget about ever again getting any concessions from the British government, McCintosh went ballistic."  
Tariq turns back to his monitor. "He should be in jail, not running around having the chance to enrich himself even more."  
Beth shrugs. "This is Robert Westhouse all over again. The country can't afford a scandal in these economic times. But I get the feeling McCintosh is finished – Towers will make sure of that. He doesn't appreciate being made to look like a fool."  
She looks over Tariq's shoulder. "Is that the footage we got from Catherine?"  
"Yep. I'm collating everything."  
Suddenly Beth frowns. "Go back a little."  
Tariq does, and Beth points to the periphery of the image. "There. McCintosh's assistant is looking right at the camera. He's seen Catherine filming them."  
Without explaining further, she sprints out the door.  
Tariq turns and yells after her. "Beth wait!"  
But she is long gone.

Ruth and Catherine sit on the sofa, talking over the events of the evening. The two women have come to like and respect each other during the last few days, and Ruth feels comfortable to tell her most of what happened, knowing Catherine will honour her promise to keep it to herself. Their discussion is interrupted by a loud banging on the door. Ruth holds up a hand and is about to move towards the door when it is suddenly kicked open and McCintosh storms in, a wild look in his eyes.  
"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ruth demands. Despite her strong words, she is backing off slightly and placing herself between the seething businessman and Harry's daughter.  
McCintosh points an accusing finger at Catherine. "You filmed me! This whole fiasco is your fault! Who did you give it to?!"  
Catherine opens her mouth, but Ruth gives her a warning look and a slight shake of the head. Turning back to McCintosh, she spreads her hands in a calming gesture. "What are you talking about? We're here to make a documentary on the plight of the North Sea sand eels."  
Wavering slightly, McCintosh looks between the two women. "My assistant saw you – when you were doing the interview with the Energy Secretary. In the conservatory."

Ruth looks confused. "But… The footage only contains Catherine's interview. We didn't even know you were there." She turns to her companion. "Show him."  
Catherine stares at Ruth in confusion, but everything about the analyst is saying, _trust me_. So she does. She finds the recording and inserts it.  
McCintosh roughly shoves Ruth out of the way and watches the footage. His presence in the background can only be glimpsed as a slight blur in one corner for a few seconds. If one didn't know that he'd been there, it would be impossible to identify him. The businessman says nothing more, merely turns on his heel and strides out.  
Ruth follows him. "You're paying for the damage to the door!"  
As she calls after him, Beth rounds the corner at a brisk pace. She slows down as McCintosh storms past her before looking at Ruth.  
"Is everything all right?"  
"Fine," Ruth smiles, but she looks shaken.  
Beth inspects the door and looks at Ruth again. "How did you get him out of here?"  
"I gave him proof that Catherine knows nothing about his nefarious plan."  
Both other women look at her with perplexed expressions.  
Sitting down, Ruth explains, "I had Tariq doctor Catherine's footage."

- 0 -

It is nearly midnight when Harry and Dimitri get back to the hotel. They have handed Andrei off to Naval Intelligence and left the Coast Guard to deal with the crew and the Russian ship. What Harry wants to do more than anything, is rush to see his daughter and Ruth. But there is something else he knows he must do first. After collecting the bottle of Scotch from his room, he knocks on the Home Secretary's door. Towers yanks open the door and stares at Harry in open animosity.  
"What do you want?"  
Harry sighs. "To clear the air." He holds up the Scotch.  
After long seconds the Home Secretary pushes the door open wider.

When they're both settled with a drink, Towers says, "I wasn't going to keep the money he offered me."  
"I know," Harry says, watching him over the rim of the glass. "But that argument won't hold much weight if things became public."  
Towers laughs shortly, downs his drink and reaches for the bottle again. "It was one moment of weakness, Harry." There is a note of shame in his voice.  
"Many a career has been ended by those," Harry replies, not without empathy, refilling his own glass.  
"Well," Towers says, looking at the spook, "I don't see how we can work together after this."  
Harry mulls this over, staring at the Scotch. When he looks up again Towers is surprised to see a smile on his face.  
"I think you're wrong," Harry says. "Knowing each other's weaknesses can only strengthen our understanding. You're a good man, William, and I still have a healthy modicum of respect for you. If you feel the same, well."

There is a long silence as Towers ponders this. He knows there is no-one better than Harry to have as his Head of Counter Terrorism, but can he really trust him not to hold his moment of weakness over his head each time he's not getting his way?  
As though reading his mind, Harry says, "You've been using the Albany events to force me into things I didn't want to do, and it's normal that you would expect me to do the same over this incident. But I think we work together best when neither of us is holding the other over a barrel. So I give you my word that this will never be mentioned again, if you'll do me the same courtesy."  
Studying Harry, Towers sees nothing but sincerity in his expression. Nodding slowly, he says, "A clean slate." He stands up and holds out his hand. "I give you my word."  
Harry does the same and they shake on it.  
"Thank you, Harry," Towers says gratefully.  
"And you, Home Secretary." With a lighter heart, Harry goes to see his daughter.

He has scarcely finished knocking when the door is opened and Catherine flings herself into his arms. She is babbling; calling him 'Daddy', telling him that he'd scared the crap out of her, and that she is very, very proud of him.  
Harry is too overwhelmed to do anything other than hold her tight against him, and letting the tensions of the day slowly trickle away.

- 0 -

Though it is long after midnight, they are soaking in the bath. Together. Ruth is behind him, her arms wrapped around him and Harry can't stop running his hands over her smooth skin. It is pure bliss, and the warm water and copious amounts of bath oil Ruth poured in is doing wonders for his aches and pains.  
Intertwining his hand with hers, he says, "Catherine is quite taken with you. She couldn't stop singing your praises."  
"The feeling is mutual. You have a wonderful daughter, Harry." She presses a kiss to his temple, before continuing, "You did good today." Unable to resist, she adds teasingly, "Dimitri says you're a great kisser."  
"Did he now," Harry says, amused, then asks cheekily, "And do you concur?"  
"Hmm. I think I need a refresher course before I can answer that."  
Harry obliges, twisting round as best he can and pouring all the love he feels for her into the kiss.

When they pull apart she wraps her arms around him and buries her face in the back of his neck. He can feel her take deep breaths.  
"Hey," he says, concerned, "what's wrong?"  
"Catherine and I thought you were dead for a few seconds."  
"Ruth…" He tries to turn around again but she prevents him from doing so by clutching him tightly against her.  
Her next words are delivered into his shoulder. "And if someone offered me the chance to buy your life at the expense of a state secret that doesn't work, in those few seconds, I would have taken it without a second thought."

Harry is stunned. Needing to see her face, he turns his head and leans sideways, trying to determine whether this is a good or a bad thing in Ruth's eyes. She watches him unwaveringly, lovingly.  
"I shouldn't have said that it was wrong of you to love me after you'd saved me. I was… trying so hard to desensitise myself to everything back then that I'd lost perspective. I'm sorry if I hurt you by saying that."  
His heart thudding wildly in his chest, he asks the question he's been afraid to until now. "You've never told me, Ruth. Do _you_ think we can make this work?"  
She gives him a brilliant smile. "God, I hope so. I want us to. More than anything. I think I'm addicted to you already." With that she pulls him in for another long kiss.  
"Dimitri is wrong," she declares when they break apart, before tracing his lips with her fingers. "You're a _fantastic_ kisser."  
"Let me show you what else I'm rather good at," he promises before pulling her out of the bath and taking her to bed.

As they lie spooned together afterwards, his thoughts drift back to his conversation with Towers about men and their weaknesses. He knows in that moment that Ruth will forever be his greatest weakness, the one thing he will not be able to give up or sacrifice. But she is also his greatest strength, the one that keeps him going when all else seems lost, and he promises her silently, in that night, to never give up. On her, on them, on fighting the good fight.

Lying with her like this suddenly reminds him of their night in the bird hide.  
"You know," he murmurs, "I think puffins are my favourite birds now."  
She laughs softly and pulls his arm tighter around her.  
"Mine too, Harry. Mine too."  
They fall asleep, both finally at peace.

_Fin_


End file.
